THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS

IN ENGLISH THEATRE OF THE SEVENTEENTH

AND EIGHTEENTH CENTURIES

by

DUFF SERRA, B.A., M.F.A.

A DISSERTATION

IN

FINE ARTS

Submitted to the Graduate Faculty of Texas Tech University in

Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for

the Degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Approved

May, 1991

gol T3

3.

1991, Duff Serra

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I would like to thank Dr. Clifford Aehby and Dr. Richard McGowan

for their suggestions of specific source material. I would also like to

thank Dr. George Sorensen for his guidance and encouragement.

11

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS i i

CHAPTER

I. INTRODUCTION 1

II. THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS 8

III. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS IN MUSIC AND ART 19

IV. THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS

IN THEATER 29

BIBLIOGRAPHY 71

APPENDIX 78

111

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

The Doctrine of the Affections^ was a set of concepts used during

the 17th and 18th centuries that defined and explained human emotion and

its relationship to numerous other areas of knowledge, both popular and

scholarly. The Doctrine grew haphazardly and sporadically from the late

Middle Ages into the 17th century, when it was articulated most clearly

and completely. By the second half of the 18th century, aspects of the

Doctrine were being called into question, particularly on the scholarly

level. By the beginning of the 19th century, the Doctrine faded quickly

from both the popular culture and scholarly thought and was forgotten.

The meanings of the words "passion" and "affection" shifted, and the

word "emotion" was used in their place (but without the implied

interrelationships).

The Doctrine of the Affections determined all the formal aspects

of the arts of the 17th and 18th centuries that related to the emotions

and to the ethics and morality involved in the display and use of the

emotions. As the Doctrine was also a central concern of theology,

philosophy, and medicine and had implications in the natural sciences,

astronomy, astrology, and a number of other areas, works in any of the

arts, the meanings or representations of which dealt with any of these

fields of knowledge, had a relationship, directly or indirectly, with

the Doctrine.

^"The Doctrine of the Affections" is the term used in this work to mean the network of concepts from the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries that concerns human emotion and all other information and concepts taken from a great many other disciplines and fields of study that bore relation to human emotion as perceived by the thinkers of this time period. Some of these other fields of knowledge included theology, morality, philosophy, physiology, medicine, astronomy, and astrology. There is no clear or terse definition possible for the Doctrine of the Affections. Its concepts go so deeply into so many disciplines of learning that no all-inclusive definition can be formulated.

The term "Doctrine of the Affections" comes primarily from music scholarship. There, it is used usually to include the meaning of the passions, in a very general sense, and to indicate more specifically the general concepts behind the use of compositional devices to represent the passions in music and in the performance of music. The word "doctrine" was used throughout the 17th and 18th centuries to mean a more or less loose grouping of concepts. There is very little evidence that the term "Doctrine of the Affections" was much used during this period. The term is used in this study for its all-inclusive nature.

Since those arts that were available to the uneducated and

relatively uneducated in European society (such as plays in public

theaters, visual art in churches, music concerts in the time of Handel,

etc.) did contain in them sophisticated representations of the passions,

it is clear that all levels of society were exposed to the Doctrine of

the Affections; but since what was articulated concerning the Doctrine

was a product of scholars and semi-scholars, it is difficult to judge

the true extent of the popular understanding of the Doctrine itself and

the popular understanding of the representation of the passions in the

arts. (By the middle of the 18th century, there appear in English a

number of discussions on the relationship between the passions and

acting written by actors who were not scholars. As far as the English

society is concerned, it would seem that the Doctrine of the Affections

became a more standard element in the popular culture than it may have

been in the preceding century.)

As a general rule, as one moves through a society farther away

from the circles of scholarly activities, the more simplified and

nonspecific the ideas and philosophies generated by those scholarly

activities become in both the society in general and in the minds of

individuals. Before the times of the mass media, it was primarily those

same scholarly circles which preserved their own ideas and philosophies.

What exists today of the Doctrine of the Affections in written form was

a product of those scholarly circles, and what exists today in written

form is the Doctrine in its most concentrated and sophisticated state.

It would be impossible to determine the exact state of the popular

understanding of the Doctrine of the Affections. The popular beliefs of

any segment of a society will change from generation to generation and

will be influenced by ideas and beliefs that filter in from other areas.

In the case of the Doctrine of the Affections, as the literate segment

of the general population grew, the general understanding of the

passions also grew.

It is clear, however, that in 17th and 18th century England, the

general public attended the theater and understood the Doctrine well

enough so that it appreciated the representations of the passions in

both the performances of plays and in the actual words of plays. It is

also clear that those sections of the public for which the treatises on

the passions and the treatises on their representations were written had

a relatively sophisticated understanding of the Doctrine.

The Doctrine of the Affections was an integral part of the

cosmology of the time. It did not exist as a theory by itself but was

developed with and inseparably connected to all other mainstream

philosophical, religious, and scientific beliefs. Thus, some of the

conclusions concerning the workings of the world that permeated the

belief-systems of the time formed the basic premises of the Doctrine.

Of importance here are the viewpoints taken by the general

consensus of the 17th and 18th centuries on two philosophical issues

which had been under discussion at least since the years of Plato and

Aristotle. The first viewpoint concerns the nature of the relationship

between commonality and diversity. The second concerns the assertion or

denial of an objective order of existence that is necessarily prior to

any subjective order of knowing. Both issues are closely related to

each other, and this relation is clearly manifested in the Doctrine of

the Affections.

In the case of the first issue and in the position taken by the

Doctrine, the connection between the common experience of emotion and

the variations in the physical manifestation of the emotion lay in the

understanding of the soul (from which the passions arise) and the

sensations of the body (through which the passions are felt). The

existence of the same passions in the souls of all humans accounted for

the commonality of emotion. The subtle differences between individuals'

physical bodies and any internal changes within one individual's body

accounted for all variations perceived in human emotion.

In the case of the second, the objective order of existence was

considered to be the soul and all of its aspects. The subjective order

of knowing lay in information gathered through sensations of the body.

(The Doctrine of the Affections also included an objective order of

knowledge. As the soul was believed to have the capacity for self-

reflection, any knowledge obtained from this activity would be objective

in nature. Thus, this knowledge of the passions was considered

objective and indisputable.)

Ethical issues were also an aspect of the Doctrine. One central

issue concerned the ability of the individual to control his own

emotions and the duty—civic, religious, moral, or otherwise—to

exercise that control. Paralleling this issue of control was that of

the purposeful use of the emotions for the public good. The 16th, 17th,

and 18th centuries were very familiar with the traditions of rhetoric

and the many contemporary and ancient authors who wrote on the use of

emotion in public speaking through voice, gesture, and word choices. In

addition, Aristotle's views of the importance of catharsis—the public ventilation of harmful emotions through passive participation in the performance of a theatrical tragedy—were well known and accepted as truth.

The Doctrine of the Affections and medical theory overlapped on

issues that concerned the nature and causes of certain groups of

maladies. The passions were believed to cause many illnesses through

their physical manifestations in body tissue and fluid. Medical

treatments were often prescribed based upon the offending passion.

Because the passions were thought to have an objective existence, each

passion could be spoken of as definite and unchanging, and thus, would

cause specific symptoms in the body. (These symptoms, however, would be

modified in every individual based upon his or her physical dynamics.

It was the physician's duty to understand all the passions and all the

subtleties of the dynamics of his patients' bodies.)

Many other disciplines, seemingly far removed from the study of

human emotion, influenced the formation of the core of concepts that

composed the Doctrine of the Affections. Astronomy and astrology, for

example, connected the passions with the stars. Specific celestial

bodies were believed to be related to specific passions. The movement

of these celestial bodies influenced the movement of the passions in

mankind. Other concepts linked music with these celestial bodies and

their movements. Music, in turn, was associated with the passions.

Specific notes, scales, and modes were believed to have properties that

had relationships to specific passions. The ties between the movement

of music, heavenly spheres, and the passions, though never clearly

delineated, were generally discussed throughout this period.

The belief that the passions existed in the soul independent of

the body, and that when moved, caused physical changes to occur, was the

ideological basis for the categorization of the passions and affections.

Scholars, philosophers, and men of medicine categorized the nature of

each passion and each set of physical changes initiated by the movement

of a passion. This systematized classification made possible the

representation of the passions in the arts. People, real or fictional,

were viewed as belonging permanently or temporarily to these emotional

and physical types. In the portrayal of people, all of the arts made

use of these categories in stylized representations.

The purpose of the representation of the passions in the arts was

to explore and express the nature of human emotion and to move the

emotions of the viewers or listeners through socially and morally

accepted methods. The representations themselves needed to be clear and

relatively standardized. The clarity of representation made for the

clean and efficient communication of emotion. The relative standard­

ization of representation reflected the belief in the commonality of the

passions.

During the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries, it was believed that,

through the perception of passions in others, one's own passions would

be moved. The purposeful moving of an audience's passions through the

speaker's own was one of the primary devices of rhetoric, a discipline

well known during this time. In its use of representations of the

passions, the arts borrowed this device from rhetoric and adapted it to

every medium. The perception of the outward manifestations of a passion

was considered to be sufficient to move that same passion in the viewer.

These outward manifestations included the obvious physicalizations of

each passion through posture, movement, and voice. In the visual arts,

color and texture were used to represent specific passions and/or to

emphasize the passions represented through posture and movement. In

music, tempo, key, melodic, harmonic, and intervallic structures, and

performance liberties were used to represent the passions. In theater,

the passions were represented in both the plays themselves (through

literary devices and verbal descriptions) and in their performances

(through the gestures, postures, movements, and vocalizations of the

actors).

Modern research and discussion on the passions and the affections

and their representation in the arts has been so minimal and sketchy

that contemporary scholarship barely recognizes the existence of the

Doctrine of the Affections. The Doctrine, however, was the sum total of

what was generally accepted as true concerning human emotion during the

16th, 17th, and 18th centuries throughout Europe. Inclusive in this

understanding of human emotion was the belief that correct represen­

tation of the passions in the arts would correctly move any audience.

To ignore or neglect the concepts of the passions and their represen­

tations is to misunderstand all of the arts of this period that had any

relation to emotion.

The function of the research of this dissertation is to introduce

into modern scholarship the relationship between the Doctrine of the

Affections and the theater of three centuries ago. Because most of the

material that will be presented here has never before been discussed.

the function of introduction will be maintained throughout this paper,

and no in-depth probing will be attempted.

Because the foundations of the Doctrine and the existence of the

representations of the passions in theater have not been carefully and

methodically documented in any discussion of the arts of this period,

this dissertation will include numerous and sometimes lengthy excerpts

from primary sources. These quotations have been chosen for their

representative explanations and discussions for their terseness and

specificity.

The primary sources used in this study are almost exclusively

English or period English translations. Although the Doctrine of the

Affections and the representation of the passions in the arts were

international in both acceptance and practice, and although scholars,

thinkers, and artists from all western European countries produced many

treatises on the passions and their representations, the proof of any

international style or artistic and ideological communication is not

within the scope of this paper.

The second chapter of this dissertation will attempt to define the

passions and affections in as much detail as is practical for the

purpose of a discussion of their representation in plays and

performances. It is not the aim here to present in detail the subtle

differences between one thinker's Doctrine and another's or to document

in detail all the intricacies of any one person's philosophy. This

process would not serve to further an understanding of the subject of

this dissertation. Rather, what will be presented by the way of

definition will be a compilation of the general concepts held by most of

those from this period who have written on the Doctrine.

The third chapter will explore through documentation the

representation of the passions in art and music. The function of this

exploration is to demonstrate some patterns and points of view from

these two disciplines that will give a fuller understanding of the

process of representation itself. Some of these patterns and approaches

will have direct relationships to those used in theater, and some will

not. None of the representations in music and art, however, will be

examined in great detail as that is outside the scope of this study.

The fourth chapter will discuss the representation of the passions

in both the plays and the theatrical performances of the 17th and 18th

centuries. Conclusions will be drawn as to the effect these

representations had on the performances of the period.

Before beginning any in-depth discussions of the passions and

affections and their representations, one caveat needs to be mentioned.

Although there is much written material available from this period

concerning the Doctrine itself and the pervasiveness of its general

concepts in the arts and philosophy, the interpretation of those

concepts and their place in the complex world view of the time (of which

the arts are, of course, a product) is not always clear. All of the

written works, even those by such methodical thinkers as Descartes,

assume a number of basic premises and definitions which are never stated

or explained. This aspect of the primary sources used for this study

makes a certain amount of researched guesswork necessary at times. In

its totality, the Doctrine of the Affections is a relatively alien set

of concepts to the late 20th century mind, and, as those writers of the

16th, 17th, and 18th centuries wrote for the minds of their own time,

their precise meanings are not always apparent.

CHAPTER II

THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS

As stated in the preceding chapter, the concepts that make up any

definition of the Doctrine of the Affections, and thus the words

"passion" and "affection," are so numerous and their relationships so

entangled that no concise definition of either "passion" or "affection"

is possible. As a general place from which to begin, however, the words

can be defined as referring to the metaphysical aspect of human emotion

that belongs to the soul. Both words were most often used interchange­

ably (and will be used so in this study), and both words were sometimes

used to refer to the physical manifestations of emotion and the

reflections of those manifestations in the personality and the anatomy.

Both words "passion" and "affection" come directly from the Latin,

"affection" from affectus and affectio (both variations of adfectus) and

"passion" from passio. Both words were used by the ancient Romans and

by Medieval and Renaissance scholars. In the Institutio Oratoria of

first century A.D. Roman author Quintilian, a work well-known in the

17th and 18th centuries, the author briefly discussed the meaning of

adfectus.

Emotions however, as we learn from ancient authorities, fall right into two classes; the one is called pathos by the Greeks and is rightly and correctly expressed in Latin by adfectus (emotion): the other is called ethos, a word for which in my opinion Latin has no equivalent; it is however rendered by mores (morals)...^

Modern Latin dictionaries, such as Cassell's New Latin Dictionary

or The Oxford Latin Dictionary, are of little help with the Renaissance

or 17th century meanings of these words. The Oxford Latin Dictionary.

for example, says of passio. "An affection of the mind, passion,

emotion." Renaissance definitions do not give that much more

information. Thomas Elyot in his Dictionary, published in London in

1538, defined affectus as meaning the same as affectio; "affection or

naturall motion, as gladnesse, desyre, and suche lyke."^ Elyot's

definition gives some additional infoirmation. Elyot calls an affection

^Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria, trans. H. E. Butler (1921; reprint ed., Cambridge; Harvard University Press, 1977), Vol. 2, p. 421. [Bk. VI. ii. 8.]

^Thomas Elyot, Dictionary (1538; reprint, Menston, England: The Scholar Press Limited), n. pag.

a "naturall motion." (The idea that an emotion was a natural movement

of the soul was a basic Renaissance and Baroque concept that figured

centrally in the Doctrine.)

Nicolas Coeffeteau, a French scholar, priest, court preacher to

King Henry IV, coadjutor bishop of Metz, and bishop of Marseilles,

published a lengthy treatise on the passions in Paris in 1620. One year

later, a translation of his work was published in London. In his book,

A Table of Humane Passions. Coeffeteau wrote the following concerning

the definition of the passions.

Seeing as there can be no better order obserued, to expresse the nature of things, then to beginne by definitions, which haue vsually giuen vs a full light of their essence, wee must enter into this treaty of passions, by definition which Philosophers giue. That which is called passion, say they, is no other thing, but a motion of the sensitiue appetite, caused by the apprehension or imagination of good or euill, the which is followed with a change or alteration in the body, contrary to the Lawes of Nature.^

There are several important concepts and facts in this quote that

should be noted. First, Coeffeteau declares that the stated definition

of the passions is not his own but is an already accepted, scholarly

one. (The origin of the concepts of the passions and affections are

from the adaptations by late Medieval scholars of Greek and Roman ideas.

By the third decade of the 17th century, the system of concepts was

fairly universally accepted.) Second, Coeffeteau mentions that the

passions are a motion, and more specifically, that they are a motion of

the sensitive appetite. (An appetite was a principle of attraction or

repulsion occurring in nature. The term implies motion. The sensitive

appetite was the aspect of both the human and animal souls from which

desire and emotion arose.)

Third, the author states that the passions are moved by the

perception or imagination of something. (Perception involved the

interaction of the soul and the phenomenal world through the sensing

organs and mechanisms of the body. It likewise implied a motion, as

perception was usually viewed as a mechanical process. Imagination

was believed to be an aspect of the self-reflection of the rational

soul.) Fourth, Coeffeteau states that the motion of the passions

"^Nicolas Coeffeteau, A Table of Humane Passions (London: 1621; Microfilm, Early English Books, 1475-1640, reel #1168) pp. 1-2.

^For more information on perception, see Descartes's Optics and The Passions of the Soul.

creates disturbances in the body that are contrary to its correct and

natural workings. (The idea that the body and soul would function

properly and smoothly were it not for the interruptions of the passions

was an underlying premise common in one form or another to all of the

authors on the passions.)

In 1597 and 1598, while in a succession of prisons, jailed as a

political and religious prisoner, Thomas Wright, an English Jesuit

priest, wrote The Passions of the Minde in Generall. The book was first

published in 1601. After enlarging and reworking it, Wright published a

new edition in 1604. The book was successful enough that three

subsequent editions were published, all based on the 1604 version, the

last printed in 1630. In the second chapter of The Passions. Wright

comes closest to defining the passions.

Three sorts of actions proceed from mens soules, some are internall and immateriall, as the acts of our wits and wils; others be meere externall and materiall, as the acts of our sense, seeing, hearing, mouing, &c. others stand betwixt these two extremes, and border vpon them both; the which wee may best discouer in children, because they lacke the vse of reason and are guided by an internall imagination, following nothing else but that pleaseth their senses, euen after the same maner as bruit beasts doe: for, as we see beasts hate, loue, feare and hope, so doe children. Those actions then which are common with vs, and beasts, we call Passions, and Affections, or perturbations of the mind... They are called Passions... because when these affections are stirring in our minds, they alter the humours of our bodies, causing some passion or alteration in them. They are called perturbations, for that (as afterward shall be declared) they trouble wonderfully the soule, corrupting the iudgement & seducing the will, inducing (for the most part) to vice, and commonly withdrawing from vertue, and therfore some cal them maladies, or sores of the soule. They bee also named affections, because the soule by them, either affecteth some good, or for the affection of some good, detesteth some ill. These passions then be certaine internall acts or operations of the soule, bordering vpon reason and sense, prosecuting some good thing, or flying some ill thing, causing therewithall some alteration in the body.°

There are several observations that should be made from the

reading of this passage. First, Wright uses the words "passion" and

"affection" synonymously, both words referring to the same phenomenon.

^Thomas Wright, The Passions of the Minde in Generall. introduction by Thomas O. Sloan (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1971), pp. 7-8.

10

For the most part, this was true for all writers of this period.^

Second, the author states that the passions belong to that part of the

soul that mankind has in common with animals (the sensitive appetite,

or, as others called it, the sensitive soul). Wright's belief that

animals feel emotions and that they are the same emotions mankind feels

because they originate from the same aspect of the soul (an idea which

was not original with Wright) implies a distinction between the passions

and reason, as reason belongs only to mankind.

Third, Wright observes that the passions upset the peace of mind

of any individual (mind, here, meaning both the sensitive and the

rational aspects of the soul) and also causes changes in the body.

Fourth, he observes that the passions can move in the direction of

either good or evil.

Another important treatise on the passions from the first half of

the 17th century was RenS Descartes's The Passions of the Soul of 1649.

This work systematically discusses the differences between the body and

the soul and the differences between the manifestations of the passions

in each. In the second and third parts of the work, Descartes methodi­

cally discusses individual passions and describes their natures, how

they are alike and how they differ.

In Article 2 of the first part of the treatise, Descartes presents

his position on the importance of the understanding of the nature of the

mind and body. Next I note that we are not aware of any subject which

acts more directly upon our soul than the body to which it is joined. Consequently we should recognize that what is a passion in the soul is usually an action in the body. Hence there is no better way of coming to know about our passions than by examining the difference between the soul and the body, in order to learn to which of the two we should attribute each of the functions present in us.^

To understand the 16th and 17th centuries' conception of the soul

and any arguments arising as to the nature of the soul, it is best to

^Occasionally one finds conflicting uses of the words "passion" and "affection." Sometimes one or both words were used to refer to the physical manifestations of emotion. Sometimes one or both words were used to mean the movement of the soul only or to indicate the entire process. Sometimes the words have entirely negative connotations, and sometimes they have entirely positive connotations. They are usually, however, synonymous.

^Rene Descartes, The Passions of the Soul. The Philosophical Writings of Descartes, trans. John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, and Dugald Murdoch (Cambridge; Cambridge University Press, 1985), p. 328.

11

turn to Thomas Aquinas's Summa Theoloaiae (Part 1, Question 75 and

following). For the purposes of this dissertation, it is unnecessary to

delve into the complexities of Medieval and Renaissance concepts of the

soul. Suffice it to say that the core of beliefs was most often

conceived according to Thomas Aquinas's schemata.

The soul, wrote Aquinas, has three aspects: the first, the

vegetative, is common to all living things and is the only aspect of the

soul that belongs to plants; the second, the sensitive, is common to all

animals and man and possesses the attributes of apprehension

(perception) and motion (the sensitive appetites, of which the passions

are a part); and the third, the rational, belongs only to man and

contains memory, will, and intellect (reason, judgment, etc.).

It is from this hierarchy that the formulators of the Doctrine of

the Affections drew a number of basic conclusions. First, human emotion

is no different than animal emotion. Second, since human emotion and

reason originate from two very different parts of the soul, they are not

related to each other. Third, since the rational processes of the mind

originate in a higher order of the soul, they are a higher form of

activity. This places reason at odds with the passions.

There is some disagreement, argument, and a certain amount of

ec[uivocation and haziness evident among all the writers on the passions

concerning the relationship between imagination and perception and

between imagination and perception and the passions and concerning how

all of these change the body and the soul. Again, to discuss these

areas is to be far more detailed than necessary. It is important to

note, however, that it was believed that either the self-reflection of

the soul or the perception of something by either the body or the soul

was responsible for the movement of the passions.

The manner in which the passions affected the body was primarily

the concern for the physician. As the physical changes in the body were

an important aspect of any general discussion on the passions, and as

the issue of control over the passions had moral and religious

implications, however, most writers on the passions went into detail on

this subject. Unfortunately, there seems to have been a consensus among

the scholars of this time on only some basic principles. Most of the

details of the relationship between the passions and the body are

different for each writer.

One of the principles most commonly held was that the movement of

the passions caused the movement of the spirits in the body. The

spirits were invisibly small bodies that traversed the length and

12

breadth of the human body through the nerves and veins. The movement of

the spirits was extremely rapid, and they tended to pool in certain

areas of the body (the head, the heart, the liver, the spleen, etc.),

depending upon the particular passion. It was believed that one

physically felt an emotion because of the movement of the spirits and

that one physically felt an emotion in specific areas of the body

because of the concentration of spirits in those areas. It was also

believed that even though this process was natural, it was often

injurious to both the body and the soul. Many diseases were thought to

be the result of the injurious concentration of spirits in particularly

sensitive places.

Also entering into this process were the humors. The humors were

fluids that also circulated through the body. There were usually four

recognized humors: blood, phlegm (or pituita), choler, and melancholy.

(The last two humors, choler and melancholy, were also passions and

diseases.) These fluids, which flowed through the veins and nerves, had

specific qualities. The balance of these qualities shifted when the

spirits moved.

The following definition of the humors comes from Batman Vppon

Bartolome. a lengthy work by scholar Stephen Batman that expanded and

reworked the theories of 14th century monk Bartolomeus. Batman's work

was published in London in 1582.

A humor is a substance actuallye moyst, by ioyning of elementall qualities, and is apt to nourish and to feede the members, and to comfort the working thereof kindly, or casually to let the workings thereof. For humor is the first principall materiall of bodies that have feeling, and chiefe helpe in theyr working, and that because of nourishing and feeding. Constantinus saith. That the humours be called the Children of the Elementes. For euerye of the humours commeth of the qualytie of the Elements. And ther be foure humours, Bloud, Fleame, Cholar, and Melancholy... These foure humors in quantitie and qualytie, obseruing euennesse, with due proportion, make perfect and keepe in due state of health, all bodyea hauing bloud: lyke as contrariwise, by their unegualnesse or insertion they ingender and cause sicknesse.

Robert Burton's very famous Anatomy of Melancholy of 1621 explains

the specific qualities of each humor.

Blood, is a hote, sweete, temperate, red humor, prepared in the Miseriacke veins, and made of the most temperate parts of the Chilus in the liuer, whose office is

^Stephen Batman, Batman Vppon Bartolome (London, 1582, Photocopy, Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International, [1958?]), n. pag. Liber Quartus, Chapter 6.

13

to norrish the whole Body, to giue it strength and colour, being dispersed by the veines, through every part of it. And from it Spirits are first begotten, in the Heart, which afterwards by the Arteries, are communicated to the other parts.

Pituita. or Fleame, is a cold and moist humor, begotten of the colder part of the Chilus. (or white juyce comming of the meate digested in the Stomacke) in the Liver, his office is to nourish, and moisten the Members of the Body, which as the tongue, are mooved, that they be not over-drye.

Choler, is hote and dry, bitter, begotten of the hotter parts of the Chilus. and gathered to the Gall: it helpes the naturall heate, and senses, and serues to the expelling of excrements.

Melancholy, cold and dry, thicke, blacke, sowre, begotten of the more faeculent part of nourishment, and purged from the Spleene, is a bridle to the other two hote Humors, Blood, and Choler. preseruing them in the Blood, and nourishing the Bones: These foure Humors haue some Analogy with the foure Elements, and the foure Ages of Man.'

There was some disagreement among the scholars of this time

concerning where the spirits and humors originated and where they pooled

to cause specific effects. Burton states that the spirits (which he

defines as "vapors") originate in the brain, heart, and liver.

Descartes states that they are produced in a gland in the brain.

Of more importance to the subject at hand, however, are several

common ideas and principles that can be extracted from these writers.

First, when in balance, the spirits and humors sustain health. They

have no negative properties or aspects to them as do the passions.

Second, the movement of the passions is one of the major causes of the

imbalance of the spirits and humors. Third, the humors have qualities

which help determine what today would be called personality. For

example, a greater amount of the humor blood created a sanguine

personality. A greater amount of the humor melancholy created a

melancholy personality, and so on. It was the physician's duty to

determine the pattern or "complexion" of a person's humors. This

complexion was believed to be visible in the quality of the skin,

particularly the skin of the face. Published in the books of this time

were numerous descriptions of personality types determined by the

humors. Two of Ben Jonson's plays. Every Man in His Humor and Every Man

out of His Humor, contain characters whose personalities are determined

by their humors. (Remnants of the spirits and humors are still found in

'^Robert Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy (London, 1621, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1971), p. 21.

14

modern speech. The adjective "phlegmatic" is still used to describe a

personality type, and expressions, such as, "in an ill humor" or "a

heavy heart," still describe the sensation of an emotion in the body.)

The belief in the Doctrine of the Affections and its workings

created a decided tendency in the 17th and 18th centuries to view people

and their emotions and personalities through set types. It was believed

that these types were observable by all and that the intricacies of the

workings and complexities of these types were observable by the trained.

Underlying this tendency are two premises. The first is that

human emotions, human behaviors, and human physicalities belong to pre­

existing natural types or categories. The passions were considered to

be immutable and unchanging (as these were qualities of the soul), and

the humors were viewed as natural occurring bodily fluids that possessed

definite attributes. The second premise is that because the passions

and humors have specific, unchanging qualities, the categories defined

by these qualities are readily observable, as they are manifested in the

outward appearance and behavior of the person.

Discussions on the nature of each passion were usual in the

general treatises on the passions. The discussions were often rather

detailed. For example, Descartes wrote the following on pity.

Pity is a kind of sadness mingled with love or with good will towards those whom we see suffering some evil which we think they do not deserve. Thus it is opposed to envy in view of its object, and opposed to derision because the object is considered in a different way.

Those who think themselves very weak and prone to the adversities of fortune seem to be more inclined to this passion than others, because they think of the evil afflicting others as capable of befalling themselves. Thus they are moved to pity more by the love they bear towards themselves than by the love they have for others.

Of sadness, Descartes wrote: Sadness is an unpleasant listlessness which affects

the soul when it suffers discomfort from an evil or deficiency which impressions in the brain represent to it as its own. There is also an intellectual sadness which, though not the passion, rarely fails to be accompanied by it...

In sadness the pulse is weak and slow, and we feel as if our heart had tight bonds around it, and were frozen by icicles which transmit their cold to the rest of the body. But sometimes we still have a good appetite and feel our stomach continuing to do its duty, provided there is no hatred mixed with the sadness...

In sadness, by contrast, the openings in the heart are severely restricted by the small nerve which surrounds them, and the blood in the veins is not agitated at all, so that very little of it goes to the heart. At the same time, the passages through which the alimentary juices flow from the

15

stomach and intestines to the liver remain open, so that the appetite does not diminish, except when hatred, which is often joined to sadness, closes these passages.'^

Specific physical manifestations of emotion, such as tears,

weeping, laughter, sighs, etc., and qualities or states, such as

hardness and mildness or delight and glory, were discussed in con­

junction with the passions. Occasionally, they are even referred to as

passions. The physical manifestations of the passions were often called

"signs."

Sometimes this bitter passion is signified by a certain uncomely distortion of the face, somwhat different from that of Laughter, and accompanied with Tears; somtimes only by Sighs: by sighs, when the Grief is extreme; by Tears, when it is but moderate. For Laughter never proceeds from great and profound Joy, so neither doe Tears flow from profound sorrow. ^

The "signs'; of the passions were universally accepted as the

outward manifestations of any specific passion. The concepts of cause

and effect and the laws of mechanics were applied to human emotion.

Although occasionally authors disagreed on the details concerning the

conditions under which any specific sign might be manifested, there was

no disagreement concerning the process.

It was the signs and other recognized outward manifestations that

became the core material for the representations of the passions in the

arts. The whole system of concepts concerning the working of the

passions in body and soul was believed to accurately describe a natural

and immutable process. It was logically concluded that to use the

correct physicalizations of the passions in the representation of those

passions in any of the arts was to represent the passions correctly.

Furthermore, it was assumed that any correct representation of a passion

would move that same passion in the audience.

Because there was a tendency to view people and their behaviors as

types with predictable outward signs of their feelings and personali­

ties, the literature of the 17th and 18th centuries is full of

descriptions of real or fictitious characters whose personalities are

determined by the types to which they belong.

The writings of Sir Thomas Overbury (most of what was published

under his name was written by others after his death) are paradigms of

'^Descartes, pp. 393, 361, 363, 365.

'^Walter Charleton, The Natural History of the Passion. Microfilm, Early English Books 1641-1700, reel #295 (London, 1674, microfilm, Ann Arbor , MI: University Microfilms International), p. 152.

16

the use of type characters based on the affections. Both A Wife, first published in 1614, and Characters of 1616 were extremely popular and had many editions to which were added increasing numbers of characteriza­tions.

(An amorist] is a certaine blasted or planet-stroken, and is the Dog that leades blinde Cupid; when hee is at the best, his fashion exceeds the worth of his weight. He is neuer without verses, and muske confects; and sighs to the hazard of his buttons; his eyes are all white, either to weare the liuery of his Mistris complexion, or to keep Cupid from hitting the blacke. Hee fights with passion, and looseth much blood from his weapon...'-*

Francis Bacon wrote a series of essays covering human behaviors

and which he titled Essaves or Covnsels, Civill and Morall. published in

1625. The following is from "Of Envy":

There is none of the Affections, which has beene noted to fascinate or bewitch but Love, and Envy. They both have vehement wishes; They frame themselves readily into Imaginations, and Suggestions; And they come easily into the Eye; especially upon the presence of Objects...

A man that is Busy, and Inquisitive, is commonly Envious; For to know much of other Mens Matters, cannot be, because all that Adoe may concerne his owne Estate: Therefore it needs be, that he taketh a kinde of plaiepleasure, in looking upon the Fortunes of others...

Men of Noble birth, are noted, to be envious towards New Men..•

Deformed Persons, and Eunuches, and Old Men, and Bastards, are Envious... ''

Poetry, perhaps even more than prose, reflected the tendency to

describe people by the outward manifestations of their emotions.

Perhaps one of the best examples of this is found in Eloisa to Abelard.

first published in 1717. In this poem, the author, Alexander Pope, not

only describes the character of Eloisa through her passions but also

underscores her passions with descriptions of the surroundings. The

nature of her surroundings take on the nature of her passions:

In these deep solitudes and awful cells. Where heav'nly-pensive, contemplation dwells. And ever-musing melancholy reigns... Soon as the letters trembling I unclose. That well-known name awakes all my woes. Oh name for ever sadl for ever dearl Still breath'd in sighs, still ushered with a tear.

'•'Thomas Overbury, The "Conceited Newes" of Sir Thomas Overbury and His Friends, ed. James E. Savage (Gainesville, FL: Scholars' Facsimiles & Reprints, 1968), p. 77.

'" Francis Bacon, The Essaves or Counsels Civill and Morall. ed. Michael Kiernan (Cambridge; Harvard University Press, 1985), p. 27-28.

17

I tremble too where-e'er my own I find. Some dire misfortune follows close behind.'^

There is a sense in all of the writings on the Doctrine of the

Affections and in all of these characterizations in poetry and prose

that the individual was considered a victim of his passions and was

constantly at odds with them. This attitude separates, to some extent,

the person from his emotions and the person from the responsibility for

his emotions, for the existence and the movement of the passions is

beyond the control of man.

The moral obligation, which is made very clear by the writers of

this time, lies in the opposition to the passions by reason. The

discipline of reason for the purpose of controlling the passions does

not imply any modern methods for coping with the emotions. Neither the

elimination of unwanted emotion nor the sublimation or gradual

deemphasis of any particular emotion would fall under the category of

control because the passions were believed to be immutable and their

movement the result of natural processes. Rather, rational control of

the passions meant the forcible slowing or stopping of the movement of

the passions once that movement had begun. It was believed that man was

able (through his reason) to distinguish between healthy and unhealthy

passions and between those passions that moved toward evil and those

that moved toward the good and that he was morally obligated to stop

those passions that were unhealthy and led to evil behavior.

In the concluding paragraph from The Passions of the Soul,

Descartes speaks of obligation, pleasure, and the passions.

For the rest, the soul can have pleasures of its own. But the pleasures common to it and the body depend entirely on the passions, so that persons whom the passions can move most deeply are capable of enjoying the sweetest pleasures of this life. It is true that they may also experience the most bitterness when they do not know how to put these passions to good use and when fortune works against them. But the chief use of wisdom lies in its teaching us to be masters of our passions and to control them with such skill that the evils which they cause are quite bearable, and even become a source of joy.

'^Alexander Pope, The Poetry and Prose of Alexander Pope, ed. Aubrey Williams (Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 1969), p. 104, 105.

'"Descartes, p. 404.

18

CHAPTER III

THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS

IN MUSIC AND ART

It is generally confessed of all men, that all such motions in pictures, as doe most neerely resemble the life, are exceeding pleasant; and contrariwise those which doe farthest diffent from the same, are voide of al gratious beauty; committing the like discord in Nature, which untuned strings doe in an instrument: Neither doe these motions thus liuely imitating nature in pictures, breed only an eie-pleasing cotentment, but do also performe the self same effects which the natural doe. For as we which laugheth, mourneth, or is otherwise affected, doth naturally moove the beholders to the self same passion of mirth or sorrow; (whence the Poet saith.

If thou in me would'st true compassion breede. And from mine heauv eies wring flouds of teares; Then act thine inward griefes by word and deede Vnto mine eies, as well as to mine eares:) So a

picture artificially expressing the true naturall motions, will (surely) procure laughter when it laugheth, pensiveness when it is grieued &c.'

These words open the Second Booke of Paolo Giovanni Lomazzo's

treatise on painting written in 1584 and translated and printed in

English under the title A Tracte Containing the Artes of Curious

Paintinge in 1598. Continuing, the author writes that through their

arts, artists

discover all the severall passions & gestures which mans body is able to perform: which heere we tearme by the name of motions, for the more significant expressing of the inward affections of the minde, by an outward and bodily Demonstration; that so by this meanes, mens inward motions and affections, may be as well, (or rather better) signified.'°

It was Lomazzo's stated opinion that the artists who are held in

the highest esteem are those who have studied, practiced the painting

of, and successfully executed the representation of the passions,

emphasizing that the greatness of a painting lies in its ability to move

the passions of the viewers. The author cites Michelangelo, Titian, and

Leonardo da Vinci, and others as examples of such artists. Singling out

Leonardo, Lomazzo praises his study of the expression of the passions

through physical movement and suggests that all artists observe human

'^Paolo Giovanni Lomazzo, A Tracte Containing the Artes of Curious Paintinge (London, 1598, reprint. New York; Da Capo Press, 1969), Second Book, p. 1.

'^ibid.. Second Book, p. 4.

19

activity as thoroughly as Leonardo. (Lomazzo includes in this observa­

tion of human activity "the actions of stage-plaiers.")

After short discussions on the nature of the passions and the

changes in the body that they cause, Lomazzo discusses the representa­

tion of the passions in painting. First, he states, in a painting,

there must always be a "principal passion" represented that follows

logically from the cause of that passion and to which all other passions

represented in that painting are secondary. This hierarchy of principal

and secondary passions, he states, not only represents a natural

occurrence (as a passion always arises from an immediately preceding

cause and always is accompanied by secondary passions), but it also

serves to focus the viewer's perception that his own passions will be

that much more intensely moved.

Second, in order to create both subtle and not so subtle reactions

in the viewers, the artist must master both the understanding of and the

techniques involved in representing the complexities of all the

secondary passions. Third, each passion must be thoroughly understood,

and the manifestations of each passion in the body must be known in

accurate detail. To this end, the author presents a large section of

his treatise that describes (sometimes in detail) close to 100 passions

and how they can be represented, suggesting possible physicalities

appropriate to each passion and citing figures out of Biblical and

ancient history whose physio-emotional representations in the art of

past years would have been well-known to the contemporary reader. The

following is what he wrote of the passion of tardiness.

TARDITIE makes a man slow and heavie in all his actions: whose proper gesture is to stande still, mooving the armes, and the rest of his body slowly, not much mooving, or spreading the legges, which when they are once fixed in a place, be not easily altered; as in men that forget themselues, porters, and clownes; The like appeareth sometimes in Philosophers, and great Sages, when they are in some profound studie and contemplation; whom you may make stroking their beardes with a slowe hand: And after this manner shal you shew old folkes, but especially grosse and

"i 19

country people.

All elements in a painting, states Lomazzo, must reflect the

passions of that painting. Hair and clothing must be in motion in

accord with the passion of that figure. The artist must carefully

choose the cloth in which his figures are to be clothed so that its

movement will also be appropriate. Furthermore, the movement of all

'^ibid., Second Book, p. 27.

20

objects in the painting such as animals or the leaves of a tree, must

correspond with the passion of the main figure(s). Even the colors that

the artist chooses, though they must be accurate to nature, must be tempered by the passions of the work.

Music was no less concerned with the representation of the

affections than was art. Relatively contemporary with Lomazzo was

Thomas Morley. In 1597, he published his extensive treatise on music

composition, A Plaine and Easie Introdvction to Practicall Mvsicke.

Though this treatise is primarily concerned with the basics of music

theory, toward the end, Morley discusses the passions.

It followeth to shew you how to dispose your musick according to the nature of the words which you are therein to expresse, as whatsoeuer matter it be which you haue in hand, such a kind of musicke must you frame to it. You must therefore if you haue a graue matter, applie a graue kinde of musicke to it; if a merrie subiect you must make your musicke also merrie... You must then when you would expresse any word signifying hardness, cruelties, bitterness, and other such like, make the harmonie like vnto it, that is, somwhat harsh and hard but yet so y it offend not. Likewise, when any of your words shall expresse complaint, dolor, repentance, sighs, tears, and such like, let your harmonie be sad and doleful...^^

Morley continues by listing specific intervals (with the bass) and

specific note durations that are used with different passions and by

observing that accidentals (flats and sharps outside the key) are

unnatural motions and best represent grief, weeping, signs, and sorrows.

Before discussing further the representations of the passions in

art and music, it is necessary to remember that throughout the 16th,

17th, and 18th centuries, the arts were primarily oral traditions.

Compositional techniques were taught orally. The meanings of the tech­

niques and representations were taught orally in both social and formal

situations. Whatever criticism existed was primarily oral (until well

into the 18th century).

Exceptions to this oral tradition were the treatises on the arts.

Understandably, they were likely to offer less information concerning

technique and meaning than could be expected from the full body of the

oral tradition. In The Artes of Curious Paintinge. when Lomazzo offers

the example of malice, "In traitour ludas. when he betraied him with a

^°Thomas Morley, A Plaine and Easie Introdvction to Practicall Mvsicke. (London, 1597, reprint. New York; Da Capo Press, 1969), p. 177.

21

11

kisse,"- he is making reference not only to the Biblical story but

also to all visual representations of that story. In a similar fashion,

Morley recommends that the reader study madrigals, motets, and anthems

to understand fully "the nature of all kindes of musicke."-- From both

of these authors' references to works, it would seem that the avail­

ability of examples made full written explanations unnecessary.

Around the turn of the 17th century, the style of music composi­

tion underwent a rather substantial change. Although Morley lived on

the eve of this shift, his music, nevertheless, falls more toward the

older style (Prima Prattica) than it does toward the new style (Seconda

Prattica). Although one can see a continuity in the conception of the

representations of the passions, the compositional manifestations of

that representation changed. In a similar (though much less dramatic)

way, the visual representations of the passions in art shifted slightly

in style from the Renaissance to the Baroque. Yet, in both art forms,

the idea of representation persisted unchanged.

The understanding in contemporary scholarship of the relation

between the arts and the passions is at best very spotty. In music,

some of the final forms that the representations took are documented.

The evolution of those forms is not. Although it is clear to the eye

that there is much stylistic similarity in the depiction of the human

figure and in the use of representations in the visual arts, there has

been extremely little scholarship in this area.

The majority of music treatises dealing with the passions that

have been explored by contemporary scholars are of German and Italian

origin. There are a number of treatises, however, that are French and

English. Some of these studies deal with compositional representations;

some deal with representations through performance styles; and some deal

with both. Marc Antoine Charpentier's treatise. Regies de composition

from around 1690, for example, discusses that keys are used as symbols

of specific passions. The key of C major is gay and warlike; D major is

joyous and very warlike; the key of D minor is grave and pious; Eb major

IS cruel and harsh.-

•'Lomazzo, Second Book, p. 26.

tn -Morley, p. 178.

- Don L. Smithers, The Music and History of the Barogue Trumpet Before 1721 (Syracuse, NY: Syracuse University Press, 1973), p. 237.

22

Two English treatises that mention the relation of the passions to

music are John Alsted's Templum MuBJenm. translated from the Latin and

published in London in 1664, and John Playford's An Introduction to the

Skill of Music first published in 1654 with many subsequent editions

over a period of 75 years (the last in 1730, well over a generation

after the death of the author). Both treatises discuss the eight church

modes and identify specific passions associated with each. Playford

also states that the shake (trill) is used to underscore any passion

being represented. Another Englishman, Thomas Mace, discusses the

performance of music on the lute and the passions in Musick's Monument

of 1676.

Some of the most complete, extant discussions of music and the

passions in English were written by Roger North (1651-1734). An Essay

of Musicall Avre and The Musicall Gramarian contain the bulk of North's

discussions.

My thoughts are first in generall that Musick is a true pantomine or resemblance of Humanity in all its states, actions, passions and affections. And in every musicall attempt reasonably designed. Humane Nature is the subject, and so penetrant that thoughts, such as mankind occasionally have, and even speech itself, share in the resemblance; so that an hearer shall put himself into the like condition, as if the state represented were his owne. It hath bin observed that the termes upon which musicall time depends are referred to men's active capacitya. So the melody should be referred to their thoughts and affections. And an artist is to consider the manner of expression men would use on certein occasions, and let his melody, as near as may be, resemble that.-"*

In his two works. North writes generally about considerations of

which the composer and the performer need to be aware when dealing with

the passions. He discusses the choices of instrumentation and key

selection, the appropriateness of ornamentation and a melody's

correspondence with its words (as in a song or aria), the affections

implied by tempo markings, and many other general subjects.

Representation of the passions in music was not limited to general

stylistic considerations. Occasionally, very specific compositional

figures were used, and some are mentioned and alluded to in treatises on

composition. Perhaps one of the best known figures to be used inter­

nationally is the chromatically descending ground bass used to represent

-' Roger North, Roger North on Music, ed. John Wilson (London: Novello and Company, Ltd., 1959), pp. 110-111.

23

lamentation.- This figure was employed in works at least from the

last quarter of the 17th century through the first half of the 18th

century across Europe and in England.

As the nature of music covers both performance as well as com­

position, the representation of the passions was reflected in the

performance practice as well as the compositional practice. The above

discussion of the ideas of Roger North begins to suggest some general

and some specific performance possibilities for representing the

passions. One of the most famous treatises to discuss the relation

between the passions and performance is Johann Quantz's Essay of a

Method for Playing the Transverse Flute of 1752. This lengthy work

shows very clearly that the passions were not only represented in

written music but were also a major concern in performance.

Hence in playing you must regulate yourself in accordance with the prevailing sentiment, so that you do not play a very melancholy Adagio too quickly or a cantabile Adagio too slowly...

If the setting of the Adagio is very melancholy, as is usually indicated by the words Adagio di molto or Lento assai, it must be embellished more with slurred notes than with extensive leaps or shakes, since the latter incite gaiety in us more than they move us to melancholy. Yet shakes must not be wholly avoiced, lest the listener be lulled to sleep; you must vary the air in such a way that you provide melancholy a little more at one time, and subdue it again at another.-"

Many of the nuances of the music of this period were provided by

the performer. At times, some of these nuances were indicated by the

composer through ornamentation and tempo markings. At times, performers

had and took a measure of latitude in the literal performance of notes.

Much of the latitude that they took was based upon their interpretation

of what passions were present in the music.

In his article "Rhetoric and Music" in The New Grove Dictionary of

Music and Musicians. George Buelow discusses a number of points

concerning the use of figures to represent the affections. First,

Buelow sets out the connection between music and rhetoric. (The

connection will be made between theater and rhetoric in the next

chapter.) The movement of the listeners' emotions through the words and

-^One of the best examples of this figure in English Baroque music is found in Henry Purcell's opera Dido and Aeneas in the aria commonly called "Dido's Lament" or "When I am laid in earth."

-^Johann Joachim Quantz, On Plavino the Flute, trans. Edward Reilley (New York: The Free Press, 1966), pp. 164, 165.

24

emotions of the speaker was one of the main concerns of rhetoric. The

author has found many treatises from the 16th and 17th centuries (parti­

cularly German) which specifically relate the movement of the emotions

in rhetoric through figures of speech with the flow of figures in music.

Second, the author states that this use of figures for the

passions was the obligation of composers. One of the functions of music

was to move its audience and one of the chief manners for accomplishing

this movement was through the use of devices believed to bear direct

relation to specific passions. Last, and perhaps most importantly, the

author states unequivocally that there never existed any uniform code of

figures and their uses. Figures that appear in the works of different

composers working at different times in different countries imply an

international style and communication and not specific predetermined

compositional devices.

As distinct from music, the visual arts present a different set of

demands for representing the passions. Because representational visual

art deals with the visual aspects of human physicality, the represen­

tation of the passions is perhaps more obvious in art to the relatively

untrained person that it is in music.

In section 113 of the second part of The Passions of the Soul,

Descartes discusses the outward response of the body to the passions.

There is no passion which some particular expression of the eyes does not reveal. For some passions this is quite obvious; even the most stupid servants can tell from their master's eye whether he is angry with them. But although it is easy to perceive such expressions of the eyes and to know what they signify, it is not easy to describe them. For each consists of many changes in the movement and shape of the eye, and these are so special and slight that we cannot perceive each of them separately, though we can easily observe the result of their conjunction. Almost the same can be said of the facial expressions which also accompany passions. For although more extensive than those of the eyes, they are still hard to discern. They differ so little that some people make almost the same face when they weep as others do when they laugh. Of course, some facial expressions are quite noticeable, such as wrinkles in the forehead in anger and certain movements of the nose and lips in indignation and derision; but these seem not so much natural as voluntary. And in general the soul is able to change facial expressions, as well as expressions of the eyes, by vividly feigning a passion which is contrary to one it wishes to conceal. Thus we may use such expressions to hide our passions as well as to reveal them.

27. Descartes, pp. 367-368.

25

As Descartes wrote in the above (juote, the physicalization of

emotion is sometimes difficult to read, accounting perhaps in part for

the stylization of body postures in the visual arts of this period. To

facilitate communication, artists had to represent the passions in ways

that would be easily recognizable to the viewer. The most efficient way

for such clear communication to occur would be through the use of

stylized types. An equally important reason for the use of stylization

in the depiction of figures is that the concept of psychological and

physiological types was a logical conclusion of the Doctrine of the

Affections. The use of these physical types based upon the passions was

a logical choice for artists.

As with music, many of the treatises on art and the passions were

continental, particularly French and Italian. These treatises, however,

circulated all across Europe and into England. Charles Le Brun's

Methode pour apprendre a dessiner les passions, a series of studies of

human figures moved by particular passions with accompanying commentary,

was used as a study text at least through the middle of the 18th century

and was acknowledged by English painters, including William Hogarth, as

a basic guide to the representation of the passions in human figures.

Certainly not all treatises on art and the passions were

continental. William Salmon's Polvgraphice or the Arts of Drawing.

Limning. Painting. Sc. first published in London in 1672, had much to

say on the passions. Specific passions were given specific descrip­

tions. Passions, such as envy, calumny, and hope, were personified.

Winds, rivers, months, celestial spheres, time, eternity, and peace,

though not passions, per se, were given various personifications (or

"chiromantical signatures," as the author called them).

It is not the purpose here to document, even partially, the intri­

cacies of the representations in music and art. The point to be made

from all of these examples is that art and music were filled with these

representations, all of which were determined by the creators and

performers, but all of which were expected and understood by the

listeners and viewers. Some of these representations were idiosyncra­

tic to the creators. Some were idiosyncratic but still stylistic. Many

of these representations were stylistically international.

Because of the nature of music, some of the representations in

music were interpretations added during performance. In addition,

because of the nature of music, all of the representations were more

abstract than those in the visual arts. Colors, physical postures, and

common objects can have psychological associations that are relatively

26

easily transferred from daily life into art without losing much of the association. Sequences of rhythms and pitches almost never have transferred associations because they almost never exist in everyday life.

Manfred Bukofzer, in his book Music in the Barogue Era, makes two

observations that hold true for theater and art as well as music. The

first concerns the modem meanings of the words "expression" and

"representation." In today's use of these two words, there is a basic

philosophical difference implied. The passions were believed to be

static and metaphysical elements of the soul. As such, the passions of

joy, for example, cannot be "expressed" in the modern use of the word.

The passions are impersonal, immutable aspects of the soul and become

personal, according to the 17th and 18th century view, through an

individual's physical experience of them. Any musical figure or

artistic device, therefore, can only represent the passion but cannot

express it.

Bukofzer's second observation is that one must not "isolate

certain figures and classify them in a system of absolute meanings."-

The representation of the passions were never meant to be absolute.

Many of the same symbols were used in different contexts to represent

different passions. In addition, the system of representations was not

totally predetermined but evolved over time and changed from country to

country and from artist to artist, lasting stylistically intact for at

least 150 years.

The representation of the passions was the product of rational

thinking; the symbols were anything but capriciously formulated and

executed. The idea that the emotional content of the arts could be

controlled by the highest part of the soul—reason—was extremely

appealing to the 17th and 18th centuries. All of the disciplines in the

arts had an objective and technical side to creation; proportion and

perspective in the visual arts, theory in music, and the Aristotilian

principles of poetic composition in theater. With the full development

of the Doctrine of the Affections came the logical conclusion that the

emotional elements of any art could be structured and focused

objectively. For all of the thinkers of this period (except staunch

Puritans and religious fanatics), the passions, when controlled by man's

reason, enhanced the pleasures of life. The arts, therefore, not only

-^Manfred F. Bukofzer, Music in the Baroque Era (New York: W. Norton & Company, 1947), p. 389.

27

reflected the order of the soul—reason over emotion—but also provided

natural pleasures as well.

28

CHAPTER IV

THE REPRESENTATION OF THE PASSIONS AND AFFECTIONS

IN THEATER

As a performing art, theater encompasses two general areas of

artistic work; composition and presentation. The primary sources

available for this dissertation concentate on only one aspect of each of

these two areas; playwriting and acting. Plays (and thus playwriting)

were considered a category of poetry, and as such were subject to the

rules and concerns of poetic composition. Acting was often called

"representation." It primarily concerned the realization of the

passions of the text through physical representation onstage.

"Poetry" (or "poesie") was the term used for all writing in verse.

Virtually all plays of the 16th and first half of the 17th century were

written in verse, as were all tragedies of the 17th and 18th centuries.

(Comedies were usually written in prose, starting before the middle of

the 17th century.) The authors of the treatises on poetry did not

distinguish between poetry written to be played onstage (called Dramatic

Poetry) and poetry written to be read silently. (Interestingly,

playwrights called themselves "Poets" through the end of the 18th

century even when they wrote in prose.)

All poetic forms used in poetry to be read were used in the early

part of this period in dramatic poetry as well- Sonnets, lyrics,

pastorals, elegies, and others were all incorporated into verse plays.

Occasionally these forms constituted the basic design or structure of a

play or a section of a play. In the same way, all poetic devices, such

as figures of speech, metrical rhythms, rhyme schemes, and imagery, that

were used in conventional poetry were also used in theatrical poetry.

The Renaissance and Baroque association of poetry with plays had

its origins in the reading of the works of ancient Greeks and Romans.

There is an assumption made by Aristotle in the Poetics as he discusses

and defines the nature of poetry that there is nothing in the nature of

poetry written to be dramatized that would distinguish it from poetry

written for any other reason. The use of poetry does not change the

nature of poetry. In the Poetics. Aristotle does not use the words

"play" or "playwright." Rather, the words "comedy," "tragedy," and

"poet" are used.

The specifics of the Aristotilian definition of poetry, comedy,

and tragedy are not particularly relevant to this study. Nor would an

examination of the 17th and 18th centuries' understanding of ancient

29

writers be relevant. Two general conclusions concerning the

relationship between poetry and plays, however, are important. First,

the devices and forms of the poetry of the time were the same as those

of the verse plays. Second, the function of all poetry of the 17th and

18th centuries, as seen by those not religiously opposed to it, was the

same; instruction and delight. Instruction was considered to be

ethical and moral in nature, and delight was ethical and esthetic in

nature.

Although there were those who were against the concept of

theatrical entertainment, and thus against all aspects of theater,-^

the pervading scholarly attitude was that theater, particularly tragedy,

when properly understood, was a beneficial instrument of moral and

ethical instruction and that the pleasure derived from it was the result

of esthetic beauty and ethical correctness. Theorists on poetry were

even more emphatic about the necessity for moral instruction in dramatic

poetry than they were in published poetry because of the nature of

theater. Greater numbers of people at any one time were affected by the

poetry in the theater than in the home. Furthermore, the passions of

audiences were moved to a greater degree because of the enactment of the

passions in the poetry than the passions of individuals could be moved

through silent reading.

One of the chiefest, and indeed the most indispensible Rule of Drammaticke Poems, is, that in them Virtues always ought to be rewarded, or at least commended, inspite of all the injuries of Fortune; and that likewise Vices be always punished, or at least detested with Horrour, though they triumph upon the Stage for that time. The Stage being thus regulated, what can Philosophy teach that won't become much more sensibly touching by Representation.

In addition to the general connection between poetry and plays,

the ancient authors, particularly the Romans, connected poetry and

rhetoric. Rhetoric is the art of crafting and delivering a public

speech; and ancient authors on the subject carefully laid out the

procedures, rules, tendencies, and concerns of the art.

-^For more information on the controversy that raged at the end of the 17th century and the beginning of the 18th century, Garland Publishing, Inc. has reprinted 90 pamphlets, essays, and treatises dating from this period all concerning the morality of the theater. The series title is The English Stage; Attack and Defense. 1577-1730.

^^Frangois Hedelin, abb6 d'Aubignac, The Whole Art of the Stage, Microfilm, Early English Books 1641-1700, reel #9 (London, 1684, microfilm, Ann Arbor, MI: University Microfilms International, n.d.), p. 5.

30

In Book Three, Chapter One of the Rhetoric. Aristotle discusses

the overlapping areas of rhetoric and poetry and refers the reader to

his Poetics for additional information. For Aristotle, rhetoric was the

art of persuasion, and, as such, it encompassed both composition and

presentation. The Romans extensively elaborated on this dual focus of

rhetoric. Quintilian's Institutio Oratoria presents in relative depth

compositional and presentational approaches, devices, and tactics for

the movement of emotions of both the speaker and his audience.

But now it is high time for me to explain what I mean by appropriate delivery. Such appropriateness obviously lies in the adaptation of the delivery to the subjects on which we are speaking. This quality is, in the main, supplied by the emotions themselves, and the voice will ring as passion strikes its chords. But there is a difference between true emotion on the one hand, and false and fictitious emotion on the other. The former breaks out naturally, as in the case of grief, anger or indignation, but lacks art, and therefore requires to be formed by methodical training. The latter, on the other hand, does imply art, but lacks the sincerity of nature: consequently in such cases the main thing is to excite the appropriate feeling in oneself, to form a mental picture of the facts, and to exhibit an emotion that cannot be distinguished from the truth. The voice, which is the intermediary between ourselves and our hearers, will then produce precisely the same emotion in the judge that we have put into it. (XI. iii, 61-62)3'

The relation between rhetoric and poetry is further solidified

when, in the Ars Poetica. Horace refers any potential or inexperienced

poet to Quintilian as the ultimate authority on expression.

During the Renaissance and the Baroque era, there were numerous

treatises on rhetoric published in England. One of the most complete

discussions is Thomas Wilson's The Arte of Rhetorigue of 1553. Toward

the beginning of the book, Wilson sets out the requirements of an

orator: "To teache. To delight. And to perswade. "•'- It is no

coincidence that the first two requirements of the rhetorician are the

same as the recognized social and moral benefits of the poetry and

dramatic poetry of a century later. As rhetoric taught, delighted, and 33 persuaded through logic and emotion, so also did theater.

2'Quintilian, Vol. 4, p. 277.

•'-Thomas Wilson, The Arte of Rhetorigue (London, 1553, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, Inc., 1969), p. 1.2.

•'•'The 16th and 17th century writings on rhetoric did not, of course, use the word "emotion" but used the words "passion" and "affection." Furthermore, both reason and the movement of the passions

31

From rhetoric also came the concept that not only do the words and

the speaker's voice convey emotion, but also that gestures which are

natural to the physical manifestation of specific emotions, when used by

the speaker, will support and enhance the listener's emotions. Roman

and Renaissance authors of general texts on rhetoric do not detail their

works with lists of emotions and descriptions of their corresponding

gestures. The frozen gestures of the visual art of the 17th century

reveal far more of the relationship between body movement and emotion

than rhetoric texts do. What is important to note here, however, is

that rhetoric, like theater, is both a compositional and a presenta­

tional art and that the purposeful and somewhat stylized expression of

emotion of rhetoric through voice and gesture gave theater models for

its own expression.

In 1644, the oldest known extant book solely devoted to the hand

and arm gestures of rhetoric was published in London. John Bulwer's

Chirologia: or the Natvrall Langvage of the Hand...Whereunto is added

Chironomia: Or. the Art of Manvall Rhetoricke (generally abbreviated as

Chirologia...Chironomia) presents, in detail, with diagrams, explana­

tions of both gestures of the hand and arm and of the movement of the

fingers.-'' Each gesture is associated with a specific passion, groups

of passions, or meanings that imply specific passions.

The following two examples show the clarity of description used by

the author.

Gestus XXVII; Commisereor [I pity]

TO LET DOWN THE HAND with intent to rear some languishing creature from off the ground is a greater expression of pity and commiseration than to afford a STRETCHED OUT HAND to one who riseth of his own accord; for between these expressions the learned have made a distinction.

were held responsible for the instructive aspect of the theater. Not only could the audience feel the differences between positive and negative passions, but viewers could see in a play the logic behind the rise or downfall of characters according to the use or abuse of their

passions.

3'*Bulwer states that he would publish a treatise on head gestures. But there is no evidence that his project was ever completed. After the publication of Chirologia...Chironomia, other works on public presentation and its physicalization (vocal and gesticular) were published: Obadiah Walker's The Art of Oratory (1659) and an English translation of Le Faucher's The Art of Speaking in Public (1729). An important work for the late 18th and early 19th centuries is Gilbert Austin's Chironomia of 1806. This treatise includes whole body movement, social gestures, and oral interpretation.

32

Gestus XLIX; Pudeo [i am ashamed]

THE RECOURSE OF THE HAND TO THE FACE in shame is a natural expression as Alexander Aphrodisaeus proves. For shame being a passion that is loathe to see or be seen, the blood 13 sent up from the breast by nature, as a mask or veil to hide the laboring face; and the applying of the hands upon the face is done in imitation of the modest act of nature.-'-'

The Renaissance and Baroque era produced many treatises and

handbooks on the writing and appreciation of poetry. The differences in

emphasis and in critical and artistic perspective are rather clear as

one reads chronologically from the Elizabethan treatises to the Georgean

treatises. A number of attitudes and focuses, however, remain

consistent. One of those consistencies lies in the attitude taken

regarding the relationship between poetry and the passions. The

proposition that poetry could be written to move the passions in

specific ways was never questioned. Nor do any writings question the

methods of representation as being incorrect or misunderstood.

(Although by the middle of the 18th century, some questioned the effec­

tiveness of representations that seemed much overused.)

One of the clearest examples of the representations of the

passions in poetry is found in what were called poetic "forms." These

forms—the triumph, the pastoral (also called the bucolic and the

eglogue), the lyric, the ode, the elegy, etc.—were poems that were

specifically defined and categorized according to their general subject

matter and the passions associated with their subjects.

The Arte of English Poesie of 1589 contains a rather lengthy

section which discusses these poetic forms. The following excerpt is

from the chapter that begins this discussion, entitled "Of poemes and

their sundry formes and how thereby the auncient Poets receaued

surnames."

As the matter of Poesie is diuers, so was the forme of their poemes & maner of writing, for all of them wrote not in one sort, euen as all of them wrote not vpon one matter. Neither was euery Poet alike cunning in all as in some one kinde of Poesie, nor vttered with like felicitie. But wherein any one most excelled, thereof he took a surname, as

John Bulwer, Chirologia: or the Natural Language of the Hand Whereunto is Added Chironomia: Or the Art of Manual Rhetoric (London, 1544, reprint, Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1974), pp. 59, 72.

33

to be called 5,Poet Heroick. Lvrick. Elegiack, Epigramatist. or otherwise.•**'

From ancient Greek names for the forms of poetry (and the names

for the poets who specialized in specific forms), the Renaissance and

Baroque poets took the names of their poetic forms. Along with the

traditional names of the forms came the traditional subject matter and

emotions associated with those subjects.

The author of The Arte of English Poesie (disputed to be Lord

Lumley or George Puttenham) classifies comedies, tragedies, and satyr

plays (also called satires) along with the other forms mentioned above.

Distinguishing comedies, tragedies, and satires from other forms, the

author states that the former deal with "the common abuses of mans

life." Though most other forms are shorter in length and deal with more

specific subject matter; the dramatic poem differs from all others in

that the dramatic is "put into execution by the feate & dexteritie of

mans body"-'' (that is, is acted).

The "pastoral" (or "eglogue" or "bucolic") concerns shepherds,

their assemblies, and their loves and lusts. The passions associated

with the pastoral were love, joy, and the emotions that come from cele­

bration and the enjoyment of nature. The "historical" concerns the

deeds of noble men and princes. It also concerns great deeds and ideas

in the arts and sciences. Although the author gives no specific form

for "amourous affections and allurements," the sonnet was generally con­

sidered an appropriate form. The rejoicings of peace and victory belong

to the "triumph" and those of new marriages belong to the "epithalamie."

The "lamentation" concerns sorrows of all sorts and from all causes.

This poetic form has many subcategories. One is the "elegy" (which is

also considered to be a subcategory of the "epitaph" and the "epigram.")

The "epigram" is a short poem that contains "bitter taunts and priuy

nips, or, witty scoffes and other merry conceits."^^ The "epitaph" is

a species of epigram, the subject matter of which was the dead. An

elegy is a long epitaph.

Sir Philip Sidney, in his Apologie for Poetrie of 1595, states

that these poetic forms ("kindes," as he calls them) are often mixed

within a single poem. The historical and the pastoral are frequently

3^[Lord Lumley?], The Arte of English Poesie (London, 1589, reprint. New York: Da Capo Press, 1971), p. 19.

^'^ibid., p. 17.

3^ibid., p. 43.

34

combined. In dramatic poetry, comedy and tragedy often combine into what Sidney terms the "tragi-comical."

Some forms were associated with specific meters. Thomas Campion,

in his Observations in the Art of English Poesie of 1602, notes that the

heroic is associated with iambic meter (specifically iambic pentameter)

and the epigram with trochaic meter.

Throughout the 17th century, these types of poetry continued to be

described in treatises and associated with the passions. Two French

treatises, the importance of which is discussed by Thomas Blount in De

Re Poetica: Or Remarks Upon Poetry of 1694, are Rene Rapin's

Reflections on Aristotle's Treatise of Poesie (published in English in

1674) and Boileau's The Art of Poetry (published in English in 1683).

All three of these works affirm the standard forms and their

associations.

These poetic forms were incorporated into sections and into the

lines and speeches of the verse plays of this period. Although there

seem to be no references mentioned in any poetry treatise as to the use

of these forms in dramatic poetry, many of these forms are very clearly

observable. Those forms that are most clear are those where the com­

positional elements of rhyme and meter define the form (as in the

sonnet) and those where the subject matter and the passions spoken of

are so specific that there can be no doubt of correct identification.

These forms, however, are not the only representations of the

passions in dramatic poetry. Descriptions of character behavior typical

of those behaviors associated with specific passions are very common.

Also common are the use of the signs of the passions in both speech and

action. Other representations involve those character actions required,

by the lines of the play that are not the typical signs of the passions

but nevertheless give visual demonstrations of a passion to the

audience. Both the use of signs and other actions fall into both the

categories of compositional and performance symbols. Other representa­

tions, such as the title of the play itself or the very mention of a

passion in a line, might serve as equally powerful symbols.

When searching for examples of these representations, it is

important to understand that they are nothing so definite or codified as

to be absolute in any way. The meanings of titles of plays and words or

phrases that speak of specific passions are straightforward enough.

Descriptions of character behavior and the poetic forms, however, are

not always so clearly related to a particular passion or so clearly

delineated in the text. Character behavior is often complex and multi-

35

faceted, and the poetic forms were free in relative size and free in the

use of meter and poetic devices. Furthermore, the poetic form was

determined by the particular compositional structuring of the play, both

on the macro and micro levels, as well as by the form's subject matter

and passions. This condition further obscures accurate identification.

The sonnet is perhaps the easiest form to identify in a play.

This form has always been associated with love and lust (though not all

sonnets by all poets are). One famous example of a sonnet skillfully

incorporated into a play is found in Act 1, scene 5 of Romeo and Juliet.

All of the lines that Romeo and Juliet speak to each other are in sonnet

form equally divided between the two characters; four lines, four

lines, one line, one line, two lines, two lines. Immediately upon the

end of this sonnet, another one is begun but is broken by the inter­

ruption of the Nurse. This is as clear an example of the use of a

poetic form to represent a passion as one is likely to find.

The passion of melancholy is one of the principal passions of a

great many dramas and tragedies of the 17th and 18th centuries. This

period was fascinated with melancholy as both a passion and a disease.

In Shakespeare's Southampton. A. L. Rowse states that Shakespeare used

Wright's The Passions of the Minde in Generall for his information on

melancholy for the writing of Hamlet.^^ Although Rowse supplies no

evidence to support his claim, the first edition of the book was printed

the same year that Hamlet is thought to have been written and thus .might

have been available to Shakespeare.

In his book, Wright discusses the general tendencies of a passion

out of control. Many of these are clearly observable in the character

of Hamlet. According to Wright, passions out of control tend to make a

person talk either too much or too little. Speech and action can become

rash. Speech can be specifically tempered to mock and scoff. People

tend toward secretiveness. Passions tend to be manifested in one's

apparel. (Hamlet wears black throughout the whole play.)

Wright states that all passions begin from love. Those that are

negative (evil) arise from the love of something positive (good).

Hamlet's melancholy comes from his love of his father and his mother.

It was universally accepted as fact that all passions are moved by the

act of perception. At the beginning of the play, Hamlet's father has

3'A. L. Rowse, Shakespeare's Southampton (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 230.

36

just died; Hamlet has just seen his mother married to his uncle; and he soon sees the ghost of his father.

According to Wright, any urgent or potent reason can stir a

passion. The death of Hamlet's father and his mother's incestuous

marriage to his uncle are two urgent and potent reasons for Hamlet's

passion. The greatness of the injury done to a person, the manner in

which the injury was inflicted, general distractions, and general

discontent all can force a passion out of one's control.

Although Robert Burton's The Anatomy of Melancholy was written 20

years after Hamlet, for the specifics of melancholy, this book is the

best source. Among the causes for melancholy that Burton gives are many

that apply to Hamlet: sorrow, hatred, desire for revenge, anger, death

of a loved one, and overwork at one's studies. (Hamlet has just left

his studies at Wittenberg before the play opens.)

In the play, Shakespeare writes some very vivid descriptions of

Hamlet's melancholy. Perhaps one of the clearest descriptions is in Act

2, scene 2, in Ophelia's lines.

My lord, as I was sewing in my closet. Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, Ungartered, and down-gyvied to his ancle; Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; And with a look so pitious in purport As if he had been loosed out of hell To speak of horrors, - he comes before me... He took me by the wrist and held me hard; Then goes he to the length of all his arm; And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow. He falls to such perusal of my face As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; At last, a little shaking of his arm And thrice his head thus waving up and down. He raised a sigh so piteous and profound As it did seem to shatter all his bulk And end his being; that done, he lets me go; And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd. He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; For out o' doors he went without their helps. And, to the last, bended their light on me.

Burton states that melancholy can have both natural and super­

natural causes. As mentioned above, there seem to be many natural

causes for Hamlet's emotional state. Upon close examination, it is

evident that Shakespeare provides both natural and supernatural causes

for Hamlet's melancholy.

" "A very intense, unspoken enactment of these lines is in the current Mel Gibson/Glenn Close film of Hamlet.

37

Supernaturally-caused melancholy, according to Burton, is always

the result of the workings of God or the devil. In the case of the play

Hamlet, the workings of the devil are very evident. Hamlet's father's

ghost tells Hcunlet a number of things that indicate the hand of an evil

force. First, the ghost says that he has come from a hell-like

existence to which he must return. Second, when Claudius killed old

King Hamlet, he did so with the aid of witchcraft. Third, Gertrude was

seduced by Claudius also through witchcraft. "But virtue, as it never

will be moved,/ Though lewdness court it in the shape of heaven,/ So

lust, though to a radiant angel link'd,/ Will sate itself in a celestial

bed,/ And prey on garbage" (I. 5. 53-57). Burton states that the devil

may assume any shape, including celestial ones, and may be seen by the

afflicted person as spirits, visions, or miracles. Not only does the

ghost appear from hell, but the ghost also describes Gertrude's seducer,

Claudius, in the lines quoted above as a celestial impostor.

Several images used in Ophelia's description of Hamlet indicate

the supernatural nature of his melancholy. The first is a reference to

Hamlet as looking like King Hamlet's ghost: "As if he had been loosed

out of hell/ To speak of horrors." The second is a reference to the

crucifixion of Christ; "And thrice his head thus waving up and down,/

He raised a sigh so piteous and profound/ As it did seem to shatter all

his bulk/ And end his being." The third is a reference to a miracle of

sorts; "And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd,/ He seem'd to find

his way without his eyes;/ For out o' doors he went without their

helps,/ And, to the last, bended their light on me." This last quote is

somewhat enigmatic, but a resurrected Hamlet able to see ahead of him­

self without the use of his eyes seems to be the image. The last part

of the quote, that his eyes "bended their light on me," suggests a

benediction or a bestowal of grace. (It is, perhaps, a transfer of

Hamlet's partially supernaturally-caused melancholy onto Ophelia, which

is not triggered in her until the death of Polonius, her father.)

Looking at possible poetic forms in Hamlet, a few are rather

easily observed. Polonius often speaks in epigrams. The epigram was

usually short. The subject matter could vary greatly, but it had to be

witty and have well turned-out phrases. It usually had a definite

beginning and a definite short closing summary. The passions associated

with the epigram were many: quibbling, argumentativeness, self-love of

one's own rhetorical abilities, egotistical need to prove one's point,

etc. One of Polonius's most famous epigrams is his short advice to his

son, the departing Laertes.

38

And these few precepts keep in thy memory See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue. Nor any unportioned thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried. Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatched, unfledged comrad. Beware Of entrance into a quarrel, but being in, Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice; Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgement. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy. But not expressed in fancy; rich not gaudy; For apparel oft proclaims the man. And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be; For loan oft loses both itself and friend. And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true. And it must follow as the night the day. Thou canst then not be false unto any man. (I. iii 58-80)

The elegy is another poetic form incorporated into Hamlet. Its

subject matter concerns any form of musing over the dead. The passions

associated with the elegy were directly related to the emotional

position of the author: lamentation, pity, sorrow, mockery, denial,

acceptance, etc. The beginning of the graveyard scene (Act V, scene 1),

which Shakespeare sets apart from the surrounding play with prose

writing, is elegiac. The grave diggers are rather irreverent, and

though Hamlet picks up some of their mood, he stays relatively sober and

reflective. Hamlet's famous "Alas, poor Yorick" speech is a good

example of an elegy written in prose and is perhaps the emotional focus

of the scene.

The heroic is also represented in Hamlet. This poetic form was

used to describe the heroic deeds of noble men of high rank. The

passions associated with this form are straightforward: the heroic and

nobleness. Both the heroic and nobleness were considered passions, and

the purpose of the heroic poem was to narrate great deeds and also to

inspire these two passions in the listener.

Horatio's speech concerning the great heroics of the late King

Hamlet (Act I, scene 1) is a clear example of a heroic poem. our last king.

Whose image even now appeared to us, Was, as you know by Fortinbras of Norway, Thereunto picked on by a most emulate pride. Dared to combat; in which our valient Hamlet -For so this side of our known world esteem'd him -Did slay this Fortinbras; who, by seal'd compact. Well ratified by law and heraldry,

39

Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: Against which, a moiety competent Was gaged by our king; which has return'd To the inheritance of Fortinbras, Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant. And his carriage of the article design'd. His fell to Hamlet... (I. 1. 80-95)

As was common practice, the poetic forms sometimes overlapped and

combined, common with the heroic and the historical. Many times, the

difference between the two is one of emphasis: the former concentrating

on heroic deeds, and the latter concentrating on deeds in general. This

speech seems to be an example of the combination of the two. Upon the

return of the ghost a few lines after the end of this speech, the

audience will know some of the immediate history of the kingdom but will

also feel something toward the king's ghost. That feeling will be one

of respect and admiration for his heroism and nobility.

In the verse plays of this period, there were constant references

to the character's own present state. These references ranged from

subtle to obvious and from plainly stated to elaborately flowered.

Hamlet's first speech of any length tells of his rather overwhelming

sorrow over his father's death. (In this speech, black is not only

associated with death but also with melancholy. Black was the color of

the humor melancholy.)

'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother. Nor customary suits of solemn black. Nor windy suspirations of forced breath. No, nor the fruitful river of the eye, Nor the dejected 'haviour of the visage. Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief. That denote me truly; these indeed seem. For they are actions that a man might play; But I have that within which passeth show; These but the trappings and suits of woe. (I. ii. 77-86)

Today, the description of a character's emotional state and the

physical manifestations of that state by a playwright would be

considered overly melodramatic at best and bad playwriting at worst. In

understanding Shakespeare, and all of the other playwrights of the 17th

and 18th centuries, it is necessary to remember that the descriptions of

the passions of any particular character were a necessary component in

the emotional response of the audience. The actors, as will be

discussed, based their performances on these descriptions of passions

and their physicalizations. Audiences responded to both the actors and

to the words they spoke. In Elizabethan, Jacobean, and Baroque theater,

both kinds of representations of the passions were necessary and

expected.

40

To pin down Hamlet's melancholy to something close to a diagnosis

and find its many causes would be unproductive. A play is not a case

study, and playwrights take license with "facts," as a play is a piece

of fiction. The actor and the critic must be content with general

causes and general results. Today, the actor needs to find causes. The

Elizabethan and Baroque actor did not. What was not clearly in the text

was not searched for. In addition, the 17th and 18th century actor did

not (in modern parlance) "play the cause" but "played the effect." (And

in "playing the effect," the actor would—if things went as planned—

feel the cause in himself.)

Discussing the particulars of melancholy in the plays of John Ford

(who wrote between 1621 and 1638), S. Blaine Ewing in his book,

Burtonian Melancholy in the Plays of John Ford, analyzes A Lover's

Melancholy for its correspondence with Burton's view of the disorder-

Citing the following passage from the play, Ewing mentions that this

description of Prince Palador's state of mind is given before the Prince

sets foot on the stage.

He's the same melancholy man He was at's father's death; sometimes speaks sense. But seldom mirth; will smile, but seldom laugh; Will lend an ear to business, deal in none; Gaze upon revels; antic fopperies. But is not moved; will sparingly discourse. Hear music; but what most he takes delight in Are handsome pictures. One so young and goodly. So sweet in his own nature, any story

Hath seldom mentioned. (I. 1. 70-79)

The purpose of this representation of this one character's state

of passion is to acquaint the audience with his nature before he arrives

onstage. The audience will then have a predetermined understanding of

this character so that, when the actor portrays this melancholy prince,

the audience will immediately perceive the truth in the character-

This is the underlying reason for all representations of the

passions in plays; to demonstrate with clarity through the movement of

emotion the truth of the character. The correspondence between a char­

acter's spoken passions and his acted passions must be one for one. In

other words, every spoken passion is to be accompanied by an acted one,

and vice versa. Rhetias. [Aside] How 'a eyes the company! Sure my passion

will betray my weakness - [To Meleander.] O, my master, my noble master, do not forget me; I am still the humblest and most faithful in heart of those that serve you.

Meleander. Ha! Ha! Ha!

41

Rhetias. [Aside.] Ther's wormwood in that laughter; 'tis the usher to a violent extremity. (II. 2. 76-83)

The function of the line, "Sure my passion will betray my

weakness," is not to represent a specific passion but to indicate its

intensity both to the actor and to the audience. The passion, and

therefore the line, is a reaction to what the character sees are the

actions of the others present. Rhetia's second aside serves to clarify

the passion that motivated Meleander's laugh and to anticipate

Meleander's uncontrolled outburst that is about to follow.

One of the most important devices for signalling a moment of un­

controlled passions is stichomythia. Stichomythia is verse writing of

dialogue using one line responses for each character. The following

excerpt (from farther toward the end of A Lover's Melancholy) demon­

strates a special species of stichomythia. Here the lines of verse are

fractured between the two characters.

Eroclea. For my friend I plead with grounds of reason.

Thamasta. For thy love. Hard-hearted youth, I here renounce all thoughts Of other hoes, of other entertainments -

Eroclea. Stay, as you honour virtue!

Thamasta. When the proffers Of other greatness -

Eroclea. Lady!

Thamasta. When entreats

Of friends -

Eroclea. I'll ease your grief.

Thamasta. Respect of kindred -Eroclea. Pray give me hearing.

Thamasta. Loss °f f ™® ~

Eroclea. ^ crave But a few minutes.

Thamasta. Shall infringe my vows. Let heaven -

Eroclea. My love speaks fee; hear, then go on.

Thamasta. Thy love! Why 'tis a charm to stop a vow In its most violent course.

Eroclea. Cupid has broke His arrows here and, like a child unarmed,

42

Comes to make sport between us with no weapon But feathers stolen from his mother's doves.

Thamasta. This is mere trifling.

Eroclea. Lady, take a secret. (Ill, 2. 145-160)

The stichomythia here gives a visual clue to the fractured nature

of the characters' psyches and to the emotional turmoil of both char­

acters. It is important to note that, more often than not, the rhythm

of the line is not broken by the changing of the characters. In the

above excerpt, most of the lines scan in iambic pentameter regardless of

the change in speaker. This indicates not that the characters' passions

are necessarily the same but that their dynamics are. Thus, both

characters' passions are out of control- In general, this is the

purpose of stichomythia (whether it is the fractured kind or the single

line species); to indicate the intensity of the passions."*'

The play, A Lover's Melancholy, is itself a moral representation

of the effect that one person's out-of-control passions (particularly if

that person is the head of state) have upon others. In the play, the

whole country suffers as a result of the melancholy of the monarch. The

monarch's passion is a melancholy of love, and as such, it disturbs the

passions of all other lovers and would-be lovers. Not until the monarch

himself brings his melancholy to an end do all the lovers (including

himself) pair off in a natural order, according to their love.

The constraints of morality placed upon a play through society by

the playwright, regarding the appropriateness of certain passions and

the effect of those passions on the characters, were probably stronger

after the Restoration than before. The English theater during the first

three decades or so of the Restoration was heavily influenced by

Continental theatrical theory, particularly French Neoclassicism. This

influence strengthened the constraints of morality that were already in

place in English theater at the time of the Commonwealth.

In this excerpt from the preface to All for Love, it is clear that

the playwright, John Dryden, tried to work within the moral boundaries

of his society and tailored the characters' passions to those

boundaries.

" 'A careful and considered discussion of the performance of stichomythia in today's theater can be found in John Barton's Playing Shakespeare. Barton advocates the absence of any pause within the fractured line.

43

The fabric of the play is regular enough, as to the inferior parts of it; and the unities of time, place, and action more exactly observed than, perhaps, the English theater requires. Particularly, the action is so much one that is the only one of the kind without episode or underplot; every scene in the tragedy conducing to the main design, and every act concluding with a turn of it. The greatest error in contrivance seems to be in the person of Octavia; for, though I might use the privilege of a poet to introduce her into Alexandria, yet I had not enough considered that the compassion she moved to herself and children was destructive to that which I reserved for Antony and Cleopatra; whose mutual move, being founded upon vice, must lessen the favor of the audience to them, when virtue and innocence were oppressed by it. And though I justified Antony in some measure by making Octavia's departure to proceed wholly from herself, yet the force of the first machine still remained; and dividing the pity, like the cutting of a river into many channels, abated the strength of the natural stream." ^

Although the poetic forms were standard modes of poetic expression

throughout the 17th and 18th centuries, by Dryden's time their presence

in dramatic poetry seems to have all but disappeared. In All for Love.

there are a few passages that could be called heroic. The other poetic

forms, however, are not represented. Instead, the passions are

represented by straightforward statements that describe the passion, its

dynamics, and its physical manifestations. The following speech of Mark

Antony's illustrates this point.

Lie there, thou shadow of an emperor. The place thou pressest on thy mother earth Is all thy empire now. Now it contains thee: When thou contracted in thy narrow urn. Shrunk to a few cold ashes. Then Octavia (For Cleopatra will not live to see it), Octavia then will have thee all her own. And bear thee in her widowed hand to Caesar. Caesar will weep, the crocodile will weep. To see his rival of the universe Lie still and peaceful there. I'll think no more on't. Give me some music; look that it be sad. I'll soothe my melancholy till I swell And burst myself with sighing. (I. 216-230) In this passage, the subject matter of the character's spoken

thoughts indicates his passion. By the end of the quote, the char­

acter's emotional dynamics have crescendoed to the point where the

character names his passion.

A few lines later, Ventitius, angry at Antony's emotional

indulgence, confronts Antony.

" -John Dryden, "Preface," All for Love, ed. David Vieth (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1972), pp. 13-14.

44

VENTIDIUS. I must disturb him; I can hold no longer.

Stands before him.

ANTONY (Starting up). Art thou Ventidius?

VENTIDIUS. Are you Antony? I'm liker what I was, than you to him I left you last.

ANTONY. I am angry.

VENTIDIUS. So am I.

ANTONY. I would be private. Leave me.

VENTIDIUS. Sir, I love you. And therefore will not leave you.

ANTONY. • Will not leave me?

(I. 245-250)

Ventidius's first line anticipates the explosion of the passion of

anger. At the moment of Antony's explosion, the passion is so intense

that it is stated without any poetic flourishes. Stichomythia is also

used to heighten the passion even further.

All for Love is a tragedy, and tragedies were generally held in

higher esteem throughout the 17th century above comedies. The general

consensus was that tragedies were morally purifying, whereas comedies

encourage immorality. Citing Aristotle and his Poetics, English

morality saw the importance in supporting the performance of tragedies;

catharsis, the purging of the passions. Comedy, on the other hand, was

believed to agitate the passions. Laughter, particularly laughter at

immoral or socially unacceptable behavior (as would occur in most

comedies) was believed to leave a person's passions in that agitated

state. This attitude again found its justification in Aristotle.

Other arguments in favor of tragedy over comedy were esthetic in

nature. Tragedy was more pleasing; or, as some put it, tragedy was

naturally pleasing. In 1678 and 1693, Thomas Rymer published two essays

reflective of the moralist and esthetic viewpoint. In the first essay.

The Tragedies of the Last Age, Rymer states that both comedy and tragedy

please, but that comedy pleases through devices: actors, dances, and

machines, whereas tragedy can please without any of these (and thus,

naturally). Rymer admits that the passions are moved through both types

of plays; and in that sense, both types are natural. "Certain it is,

that Nature is the same, and Man is the same, he loves, grieves, hates,

envies, has the same affections and passions in both places, and the

45

same springs that give them motion. What mov'd pity there, will here

also produce the same effect. "^ Rymer states, however, that the

purging of the passions is natural and the cultivation of agitated ones

is not.

One of the most complete 17th century discussions on the purging

of the passions was written by John Dryden in his preface to his play

Troilus and Cressida (published in 1679).

To instruct delightfully is the general end of all Poetry: Philosophy instructs, but it performs its work by precept: which is not delightfull, or not so delightfull as Example. To purge the passions by Example is therfore the particular instruction which belongs to Tragedy. Rapin a judicious Critic, has observ'd from Aristotle that pride and want of commiseration are the most predominant vices in Mankinde: therefore to cure us of these two, the inventors of Tragedy, have chosen to work upon other passions, which are fear and pity. We are wrought to fear, by their seting before our eyes some terrible example of misfortune, which hapned to persons of the highest Quality; for such an action demonstrates to us, that no condition is privileg'd from the turns of pride. But when we see that the most virtuous, as well as the greatest, are not exempt /rom such misfortunes, that consideration moves pity in us."^

Dryden goes on to write that a poet who writes tragedies is

morally bound to provide for the purging of the passions in his plays;

before any detail of scene, dialogue, or character is written, the

framework of the passions that will lead to catharsis must first be

built.

According to Dryden, after constructing the framework of the

passions, the playwright constructs the plot. The conception and com­

position of the manners follows next. The manners encompass what today

would be called "personality." Included in the manners are the specific

manifestations of the passions (both psychological and physical).

The manners arise from many causes: and are either distinguish'd by complexion, as choleric and phlegmatic, or by the differences of Age or Sex, or Climates, or Quality of the persons, or their present condition: they are likewise to be gathered from the several Virtues, Vices, or Passions, and many other common-places which a Poet must be suppose'd to have learn'd from natural Philosophy, Ethics, and History; of all which whosoever is ignorant, does not deserve the Name of Poet.

' •'Thomas Rymer, The Tragedies of the Last Aoe Consider'd and Examin'd (London, 1678, reprint. New York; Garland Publishing, 1974), p. 6.

' ' John Dryden, "The Preface," Troilus and Cressida (London, 1679, reprint, London; Cornmarket Press, 1969), n. pag.

46

But as the manners are usefull in this Art, as they may be all compris'd under these general heads; First, they must be apparent, that is in every character of the Play, some inclinations of the Person must appear; and these are shown in the actions and discourse. Secondly, the manners must be suitable or agreeing to the Persons...The third property of manners is resemblance; and this is founded upon the particular characters of men

The last property of manners is, that they be constant, and equal, that is, maintained the same through the whole design.*^

Dryden asserts that the manners of any given character also must

be consistent with the type of person being represented. Some passions

and characteristics naturally go with others, and some naturally do not.

Thus the same man may be liberal and valiant, but not liberal and covetous; so in a Comical character,...Falstaff is a lyar, and a coward, a Glutton, and a Buffon, because all these qualities may agree in the same man; yet it is still to be observ'd that one virtue, vice, and passion, ought to be shown in every man, as predominant over all the rest.' ^

The last part of this quote is important in understanding the

emotional focus of speeches, large sections of a play, and the lack of

gradual evolution in characters. What today may be seen as two-

dimensional was a specifically chosen character focus decided upon for

its natural resemblance to reality.

Dryden continues by stating that it is the true and accurate re­

presentation of a character that allows for pity and fear to be moved

and purged. Characters whose motivations and passions are not clear to

the audience can only confuse the viewers and dampen the movement of

their passions. A play where all characters are alike in their passions

will likewise confuse. Passions that are given to a character that are

not contradictory to the character's general personality but that are

contradictory in a given moment (such as joy and grief), if represented

simultaneously, will cancel out any passions in the audience. Further­

more, a poet's overexuberance of passion and wit in his writing will as

well confuse the audience and tend to keep its passions unmoved.

As can be seen in all the verse excerpts from plays quoted above

(including those of Shakespeare), there was an adherence by good play­

wrights to these basic principles even before the ideas were in print.

Although the solidification of these principles occurred in the second

half of the 17th century, they were clearly reflected in the plays of

ibid., n. pag.

ibid., n. pag.

47

the first half of the century. Those principles that were specifically set down on paper were those that specifically applied to tragedy. As tragedy was considered the superior form of theater, treatises on plays discussed compositional rules as they were used in tragedy. Comedy (and tragicomedy) was sometimes mentioned as a contrast to tragedy, although it was rarely discussed by itself.

In the last excerpt quoted above, Dryden implies that the rules

pertaining to the correct use of manners and passions in tragedy are

also applied to comedy by referring to the character of Falstaff to make

his point. Whether these rules were as strictly adhered to in comedy is

difficult to ascertain, but in all probability, they were not. Tragedy

was almost always written in verse. At the beginning of the 17th

century, many comedies and tragicomedies were as well. By the end of

the century, however, few plays were written in verse that were not

tragedies. In addition, as comedy was viewed as morally and estheti-

cally inferior, one would not expect the same amount of care to be taken

in its composition.

In comedies, character names became one of the clearest represen­

tations of character manners. Names usually encompass more than the

character's passions. Names were picked that could communicate clearly

specific personalities and personality types. Ben Jonson's Bartholomew

Favre of 1614, for example, contains such usage of character names.

Names, such as, John Littlewit, Dame Purecraft, Adam Overdo, Grace

Wellborn, and Lantern Leatherhead, suggest humorous personality types

from which the passions of each character can be deduced.

The following is from a soliloquy of Adam Overdo's, a Justice of

the Peace. To see what bad events may peep out o' the tail of good purposes! The care I had of that civil young man I took fancy to this morning (and have not let it yet) drew me to that exhortation, which drew the company, indeed which drew the cutpurse; which drew the money; which drew my brother Cokes his loss; which drew on Wasp's anger; which drew on my beating: a pretty graduation! And they shall ha' it i' their dish, i' faith, at night for fruit: I love to be merry at my table. I had thought once, at one special blow he ga­me, to have revealed myself; but then (I thank thee, fortitude) I remembered that a wise man (and who is ever so great a part o' the commonwealth in himself) for no particular disaster ought to abandon a public good design. The husbandman ought not for one unthankful year, to forsake the plough; the shepherd ought not, for one scabbed sheep, to throw by his tar-box; the pilot ought not for one leak i' the poop, to quit the helm, nor the alderman ought not for one custard more, at a meal, to give up his cloak... (III.3.11-27)

48

(A character who overhears all or part of Overdo's speech says to his companion, "What does he talk to himself, and act so seriously? Poor fool!")

Although undoubtedly there are many subtleties of character that

have been lost in the intervening centuries, there are certain aspects

of Overdo that are rather clear. These aspects are only indirectly

related to any character passions. His very serious, unending dis­

cussion with himself over recent events indicates a type of person who

might have certain passions. The dry listing of cause with effect at

the beginning and at the end of this excerpt is perhaps a stereotype of

petty bureaucrats. Perhaps it is also indicative of stereotype of the

legal mind.

The passions that are inherent in this character are not

specifically stated in the text of the play; nor are specific passions

stated for any other character in this play. The passions are implied,

however, through character name, occupation, and action. It is probably

the last one of these—character action—through which the passions

would be most clearly represented; and action would include not only the

stated actions in the play itself but also the actor's own devised

physical actions. The representation of the passions in comedic plays

probably relied far more on performance techniques than compositional

techniques.

In the comedy The Plain-Dealer (first performed in 1676), William

Wycherley gives character descriptions that accompany the printed char­

acter list. Of Captain Manly, the playwright writes, "Of an honest,

surly, nice humor, suppos'd first, in the time of the Dutch War, to have

procur'd the Command of a Ship, out of Honour, not Interest; choosing a

Sea-life, only to avoid the World." Of My Lord Plausible,'' Wycherley

writes, "A Ceremonious Supple, Commending Coxcomb, in Love with

Olivia. ""^ These two character descriptions imply a set of passions

that would be appropriate and typical for a performance of this period.

The following exchange between the two characters reflects well

the nature of their names and descriptions.

'*''A footnote in The Plays of William Wycherley, edited by Arthur Friedman, reads that "Plausible" is used "in the obsolete sense of 'Expressive of applause of approbation.'"

' William Wycherley, Th^ Plain-Dealer, in The Plays of William Wycherley, ed. Arthur Friedman (Oxford: At the Clarendon Press, 1979), p. 374.

49

L. Plaus. Well, tell not me, my dear Friend, what people deserve, I ne'r mind that; I, like an Author in a Dedication, never speak well of a man for his sake, by my own; I will not disparage any man, to disparage my self; for to speak ill of people behind their backs, is not like a Person of Honour; and truly to speak ill of 'em to their faces, is not like a complaisant person; But if I did say, or do an ill thing to any Body, it shou'd be sure to be behind their backs, out of pure good manners.

Man. Very well; but I that am an unmannerly Sea-fellow, if I ever speak well of people, (which is very seldon indeed) it shou'd be sure to be behind their backs; and if I wou'd say, or do ill to any, it shou'd be to their faces; I wou'd justle a proud, strutting, over-looking Coxcomb, at the head of his Sycophants, rather than put out my tongue at him, when he were past me; wou'd frown in the arrogant, big, dull face of an overgrown Knave of business, rather than vent my spleen against him, when his back is turned... (I. 1. 35-51)

In this excerpt, the characters do not describe their emotional

state, per se. Rather, their emotional state is implied through the

descriptions of their likes and dislikes and through declarations of how

these will affect (or have affected) their behavior. The passions

implied are left for the actors to portray.

In The Plain-Dealer, Wycherley uses a prose version of

stichomythia to show the intensity of passion- The following exchange

is between Captain Manly and Widow Blackacre:

Wid- I never had so much to do with a Judges Door keeper, as with yours, but -

Man. But the incomparable Olivia, how does she since I went? Wid. Since you went, by Suit -Man. Olivia. I say, is she well? Wid. My Suit, if you had not return'd -Man. Dam your Suit, how does your Cousin Olivia? Wid. My Suit, I say, had been quite lost; but now -Man. But now, where is Olivia? in Town? For -Wid. For to morrow we are to have a Hearing. Man. Wou'd you'd let me have a Hearing to day. Wid. But why won't you hear me? Man. I am no Judge, and you talk of nothing but Suits; but pray

tell me, when did you see Olivia? (I. 1. 414-426)

Although this play is in prose, the short lines, which suggest

interruption and immediate reply, are an indication of the intensity of

the passions of the speakers. As with stichomythia in verse, this

stylistic device does not indicate any specific passion, nor does it

imply that each character is moved by the same passion. Rather, through

a change in the play's speed, rhythm, and length of character line, the

change in the passions present and in their dynamics are clearly represented.

Skipping a century of theatrical comedy and looking at the works

of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, it is clear that the rules for the repre-

50

sentation of the manners as outlined by John Dryden and the stylistic

conventions of characterization seen in Wycherley were maintained

through the 18th century- Following the conventions, character names

still represent a type or caricature. Character speeches continue to

indicate the passions indirectly, leaving most of their representation

to the actor. Following the rules of manners, aspects of the character

appear in the actions of that character, the manners being always con­

sistent with the nature of the character and always maintained from

beginning to end with one central aspect to the character that is

focused on in the play.

In The Rivals, for example, when Lydia Languish dramatizes her

life by acting like one of the characters in the novels she reads, there

is implied in her actions a number of passions. When Mrs. Malaprop

delivers her famous speech concerning the education of young women,

there is a spectrum of passions implied. When Sir Lucius O'Trigger

convinces Bob Acres to challenge his rival in love to a duel, the

passions implied are clearly reflected in his name and in his word

choices. The manners and passions of each character, as exhibited in

his or her initial scene, remain unchanged to the final curtain.

All representations of the passions in the words and compositional

structure of the plays of the 17th and 18th centuries were underscored

and elaborated upon by the physical representations of those passions by

the actors. The performance of the passions by actors was considered

equally as important as the writing of them. In the acting of the

passions, theater had several traditions from which to draw. The

gestures of rhetoric, the postures and suggested movements of figures

depicted in the visual arts, the long history of discussions and

treatises on the intricacies of the passions, as well as the theater's

own performance tradition from the preceding century made up the sources

available to theater for the representation of the passions in

performance.

There are six treatises on theater performance practices and

acting from the 17th and 18th centuries that have been available for

this paper: The Whole Art of the Stage by Frangois Hedelin, abbe

d'Aubignac (published in English in 1684); The History of the English

Stage by Thomas Betterton (1741); An Essay on Acting—anonymous (but

attributed to David Garrick, 1744); A Treatise on the Passions so far as

thev regard the stage by Samuel Foote (1747); An Essay on the Art of

Acting by Aaron Hill (1753); and A General View of the Stage by Thomas

51

Wilkes (1759). All six treatises discuss in detail the representation

of the passions through the physical actions of actors.

According to the Translator's Preface, The Whole Art of the Stage

was written sometime during the English Commonwealth period. Frangois

Hedelin, abbot of Aubignac, was recjuested by Cardinal Richelieu to write

a treatise on the theater. Perhaps one of the most complete primary

source documents on French Neoclassicism, The Whole Art of the Stage

discusses the nature of theater in general, ancient theater, the

morality of theater, the rules of play composition (specifically

tragedy), and the practice of the representation of the passions in

plays and in their performances.

Concerning the general principles that guide the movement of the

passions in theater, the author has several observations.

First, then the Cause which is to produce a Motion in the Actors themselves, and then in the Audience, ought to be something true, or believ'd to be so, not only by the Actor who speaks (who would be ridiculous to make a great Discourse of Grief or Joy for a thing he should know to be false) but also the Spectators, who probably would not be concern'd if they knew that the Subject he had to complain or rejoyce were fictitious; and if it so fall out, that by the rest of the Story, the Spectator must know a thing contrary to the belief of the Actor: As for Example, that a Princess is alive, though a Lover believe her dead; I say, if in that case one would have the Passion take with the Audience, there must not be a long complaint mingled with Sentiments of kindness and grief; but the Actor must be presently transported into Rage, that the Spectators be touched by his violent despair, and feel a great deal of compassion...

Secondly, 'Tis not enough that the Cause of some extraordinary Motion of the Mind be true, but it must also (to be agreeably represented upon the Stage) be reasonable and probable, according to the receiv'd Opinions of Mankind; for if any Actor should fly into a passion of Anger, without reason, he would be look'd upon as a Mad-man, instead of being pitied...

Thirdly, To make a Complaint that shall touch and concern the Audience, the cause of it must be just, for else no body will enter into the Sentiments of the grieved Person- For example, if an Actor should express great affliction for not having been able to Execute a Conspiracy against a good Prince, or some great piece of Treachery against his Country, he would be look'd upon as a wicked, and not an unhappy Person, and all that he could say would but encrease the Peoples aversion to him-

Besides all these Considerations, if the Pathetic Discourse be not necessary, that is to say, expected and desired by the Spectators, it will be very nauseous to them, let the Poets Art be what it will...

But one of the chiefest observations of all is this. That all passions that are not founded upon Opinions and Customs comfortable to those of the Spectators, are sure to be cold, and of no effect, because they being already

52

possessed with an Opinion contrary to the Action of the Player, cannot approve of any thing he says or does in another sense...

Thus, for the same reason, those Pathetick Discourses, which we read in the Greek and Latine Comedys, will never take with us, as they did upon the Stages of the ancients, because we have but little Conformity to the Rules of their Lives.. .

'Tis for this reason too I imagine that Tragedys taken out of the Stories of Scripture, are not so agreeable, for all the Pathetick Motions are founded upon Vertues that have not much Conformity with the Rules of our Life, to which may be added, that being scarce pious enough to suffer Devotion in Churches themselves, it cannot be expected we should love it upon the Stage...

Aubignac's points are very clear and need no further elaboration.

The author continues with additional observations.

Having thus observed what concerns the Cause and Motive of Theatral Passions, I have likewise made some Reflections upon the manner of managing them in a Pathetick Discourse.

The first observation is. That it is not enough to raise a passion upon a good Incident, and to begin with strong Lines, but it must be carry'd to the point of its fullness. 'Tis not enough to have shaken the Minds of the Audience, you must ravish them; and to do it, you must seek matter, either in the greatness of your Subject, or in the different Motives and Colours which environ it; but particularly in the strength and richness of your own Imagination, which ought to be warm'd, and elevated, and as it were, be in labour to bring forth something worthy of admiration... The difficulty here lies in the exactness of measure; for as you are not to starve your Hearers appetite, so you must have as great a care not to cloy him...

...For we have seen often upon our Stages, passion begun and forsaken half way, or at least pursed with so little Art and warmth, that they had been less defectuous if they had spot'd in the beginning of their career...

But he must be very careful not to spend all the strength of a passion at first; he must reserve some thoughts for the continuation of it; for the same passion continued and held up by divers Incidents, with a change of appearances, must certainly be much more agreeable than a new passion in every Scene...

Secondly, To guide these Pathetick Motions to the point of their true Extent, it must be done with order, and by following the Motions of Nature, with a regard to the quality of things that are said...

Yet he must always remember that Pathetick Discourses are not to end just as they begin; but after the greatest violence he may bring the passion to some moderation...never place two Extremes together, because that would be too harsh. One must not likewise in the passions of the Stage fall from one extremity to another; nor of a sudden calm into some great agitation, without some precedent reason to arrive at Tranquility...

To all this may be objected, that a pathetick discourse thus managed and governed by rules cannot fail appearing affected, and shew the very art it is made by not

53

representing naturally by consequent the state of the humane mind, which acts according to its Idea's and motives without any rule but confusion and disorder. To Answer this we must say, that this disorder in the words of a man is a fault which weakens even the impression which else his passion would make, and therefore ought to be reform'd upon the Stage, which suffers nothing imperfect *'

From these extensive quotes, it is clear that the basic underlying

principles of the performance of the passions (and also for the writing

of the passions in the verse) were not only relatively broad but also

conformed to the concepts of naturalness and appropriateness. To move

an audience, the passions had to correspond to natural human reactions

and also had to be appropriate to the situation and to the audience's

expectations. Representations that did not meet these two standards

either moved the audience to the wrong passions or did not move the

audience at all.

Before concluding his discussion on the representation of the

passions, Aubignac briefly presents the idea of the use of figures to

create and enhance the passions. Figures, the author explains, are

literary devices. The particular figures that Aubignac is interested

in, however, are not the basic literary figures described in every

treatise on poetry. The author states that these can destroy passion

through affectation and scholarly style. The figures that enhance and

move the passions are those that describe the passions themselves and

the thoughts, feelings, and physicalities that accompany them and aid in

the delivery of emotion.

All those ingenious Varieties of Speech which the Learned have invented, whereby to express their thoughts in a nobler way than the vulgar, and which are call'd Figures of Rhetorick, are without a doubt the most notable ornaments of Discourse; for by them every thing appears to a greater advantage; 'Tis they that give the grace to Narrations, probability to all other reasonings, and strength to the passions, and without them all our Discourses are low, mean, and popular, disagreeable, and without effect. Therefore the best Advice one can give to a Poet, is, that he should be perfect in the knowledg of the Figures, by studying carefully what the Professors of Rhetorick have writ on that Subject, and which we shall not here repeat: Yet let him remember, that 'tis not enough to read and know their names and distinctions, but let him diligently examine their Energy, and what Effect they are like to produce on the Stage. If it be necessary that an Actor should leave the Stage in a great rage, then he must be mov'd by degrees.

' Frangois Hedelin, abbS d'Aubignac, The Whole Art of the Stage, Microfilm, Early English Books, 1641-1700, reel #9 (London: 1684, Microfilm, Ann Arbor; University Microfilms, n.d.), Bk. 3, pp. 40-41, 42-43, 44-47, 48, 49.

54

beginning by the softer Figures, and at last be raised to the highest Transports a Soul is capable of...^°

Such figures of which Aubignac writes are contained in the two

excerpts from Dryden's All for Love quoted above. In the first, the

progression in intensity of Mark Antony's melancholy is relatively

clear. As the images used by the character increase in intensity, so

increases the character's passion. In the second Dryden excerpt, the

figures used are not images of thoughts or physicalizations but are

direct statements of the passions themselves. As these two passages are

connected with only a very few additional lines not quoted, another

progression in intensity is clearly visible. The dynamics of Mark

Antony's melancholy are not as great as the dynamics of his anger. Both

the stichomythia and the direct statements of the passions indicate this

increase.

Given a good play, where the passions were written carefully, it

became the actor's job to spot these representations, to analyze them,

and to build his own passions to correspond with them. From Aubignac's

statements, it would be logical to assert that the best theatrical

productions would be those where both playwright and the actor thorough­

ly understand and represent all of the passions of the play.

Before discussing the remaining five primary source treatises, it

is necessary to briefly discuss Dene Bamett's The Art of Gesture; The

Practices and Principles of 18th Century Acting (1987), a major

scholarly effort to organize specific gestures of the stage (many of

which are gestures of the passions). Much of the primary source

material for this book is from Germany and The Netherlands, and some of

it is from the first half of the 19th century. Both of these facts

suggest that the representation of emotion through stylized

physicalization was international in scope and persisted far longer than

the period indicated by the title of the book.

The international understanding of the passions and the inter­

national similarities of their representations are certainly clear and

indisputable. The implication that these representations meant the same

thing in the 19th century as they did in the 18th century, however, is

not either clear or indisputable. While the outward physicalization of

emotion continued in a recognizable evolution from the 18th century, the

meanings of those physicalizations changed in the 19th century. The

underpinnings of the physicalizations of the 18th century were the

5°ibid., pp. 50-51.

55

concepts of the Doctrine of the Affections. As the Doctrine weakened in use and belief, the new underpinnings that replaced it were the beginnings of modern psychological theory. This development is not addressed by Barnett.

During the 17th and 18th centuries, when the passions were

believed to be identical in all men, the representation of all

physicalizations onstage were necessarily similar. With Romanticism,

however, the emphasis placed on emotion was dramatically shifted from

its commonality to its individuality. As this shift occurred, the word

"passion" was replaced by the word "emotion," and the word "passion"

shifted in meaning.^'

The relationship between beauty and the physicalizations of

emotion in the 17th and 18th centuries and in the 19th century is also a

concern not addressed in Dene Barnett's book. In the 17th century and

the first half of the 18th century, beauty in the arts was considered to

be in part the direct result of the harmony that was created from the

correct and natural interaction of all the elements of the work. A

major element was, of course, the passions. By the end of the 18th

century, partly as a result of Romanticism, this relationship began to

change. Beauty began to be considered as an element in and of itself,

rather than the result of the natural combination of elements. Physical

postures and gestures began to be appreciated for their esthetic

qualities, rather than for their relationship with naturalness. Reason,

which controlled the representation of emotion during the 17th and early

18th centuries, by the 19th century was now separated from any represen­

tation of emotion, and to an extent, from emotion itself. Rather than

being viewed in a hierarchical relationship, reason and emotion began to

be seen as equals in the struggle for control of the mind.

There is one additional objection to the linking of the meanings

of 18th century gestures with those of the 19th century. As stage

'The shift to the more modern meaning is evident in the writing of William Hazlitt. The following is from his essay on the retirement of actor John Philip Kemble in 1817: "It has always appeared to us that the range of characters in which Mr. Kemble more particularly shown, and was superior to every other actor, were those which consisted in the development of some one solitary sentiment or exclusive passion...nor did he possess the faculty of overpowering the mind by sudden and irresistible bursts of passions " In this quote, the first "passion" is used to mean a movement of the soul. The second "passion" means an intense emotion. Though this latter definition was not alien to the 17th and 18th centuries, it was used infrec[uently. By the 19th century, the frequency of this second use of the word increased, and the first use of the word decreased to the point of obsolescence.

56

gestures and postures shifted in meaning, they became abstract body

movements, appreciated for their beauty more than for their emotional

meaning. Many gestures and postures could then be used to underscore

many different kinds of emotion. The importance of the stage gesture

became its dynamics and its physical direction and configuration and nat.

its likeness to nature.

To use 19th century sources to document 18th century stage

movement without the acknowledgement of these basic understandj-ngs is to

misrepresent the movements. The Art of the Gesture does, however,

categorize stage movement on the basis of emotional meaning, and this in

itself is a significant addition to modern scholarship. (For the

purposes of practicality, this paper will not restate the information

found in this book. The relationship between specific gestures and

specific passions has been very carefully documented. Additional

relationships between gesture and rhetoric, figures of speech, abstract

ideas such as beauty and nature, the other arts, and a miscellany of

other subjects are also explained and documented. Any attempt here ta

discuss any of this information in any detail would be essentially a

paraphrase of the book.)

The theater treatises of the 18th century that have been avails; le

for this study give the decided impression that the general categories

of gesture and posture that represented the passions on the 17th century-

stage became more specific in the 18th century. Interpretation of the

passions present in plays became more absolute and unyielding and the

specific physical representations became more codified and dictated in

performance.

A History of the English Stage (1741) is a loose compendium of

biographical sketches of 17th and early 18th century actors and

actresses. These sketches are interspersed with short comments and

explanations concerning the esthetics and the general nature of the

theater and acting. The author is listed on the title page as Thomas

Betterton, the very famous Restoration actor known for his truthful and

dynamic performances. There is no evidence, however, that this work is

Betterton's. Published 31 years after his death, it is probable rha-

the compiler and editor, Edward Currl, wrote most of in or edited the

works of anonymous writers.

Regardless of its authorship, this work provides very descriptive

accounts and discussions of the theatrical work of a great many

performers and provides information on the representation of the

passions in performance.

57

For to express Nature in all its Appearances, which can only be drawn from Observation, which will tell us, that the Passions and Habits of the Mind discover themselves in our Looks, Actions and Gestures-

Thus we find a rolling Eye, which is quick and constant in its Motion, argues a quick but light Wit; a hot and choleric Complexion, with an inconstant and impatient Mind; and in a Woman it gives a strong Proof of Wantonness and Immodesty. Heavy dull Eyes, a dull Mind, and a Difficulty of Conception. For this Reason we observe, that all or most People in Years, sick Men, and persons of a flegmatic Constitution are slow in turning of the Eyes.

...Thus the Voice, when loud, discovers Wrath and Indignation of the Mind, and a small trembling Voice proceeds from Fear.

In a like manner, to use no Actions or Gestures in Discourse is a sign of a heavy and slow Disposition, as too much Gesticulation proceeds from Lightness...

Some cast their Heads from one side to the other wantonly and lightly, the true Effect of Folly and Inconstancy...

In this manner we might examine all the natural Actions, which are to be found in Men of different Tempers. Yet not to dismiss the Point without a fuller Reflection, we shall here give the Signification of the Natural Gestures from a Manuscript of a learned Jesuit who wrote on this Subject.

Every Passion or Emotion of the Mind, says he, has from Nature its peculiar and proper Countenance, Sound, and Gesture: and the whole Body of Man, all his Looks, and every Tone of his Voice, like Strings on an Instrument, receive their Sounds from the various Impulses of the Passions.^^

The author's description of gestures and movements of different

body parts and their relation to the passions continues for many pages,

covering specific face, hand, head, arm, and leg movements, and

reiterating the basic principles of the study of natural gesture for

knowledge and understanding.

Two short discussions of acting. An Essay on Acting (1744),

attributed to David Garrick, famous actor, theater manager, and

playwright,^^ and A Treatise on the Passions, So far as thev regard the

stage (1747), by Seunuel Foote, actor, theater manager, and playwright,

reflect the apparent simplification and solidification of the physical

^-Thomas Betterton, The History of the English Stage, Microfisch, The Library of English Literature (London, 1741, Microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), pp. 62-64.

•'in the very thorough biography of David Garrick by George Winchester Stone, Jr. and George M. Kahrl, there is no mention that there is any doubt that this pamphlet is not by Garrick. The authors feel that Garrick wrote this discussion on acting to forestall or eliminate any criticism of his own acting by others by criticizing and poking fun at himself.

58

manifestations of the passions performed on stage. Both works, which

might more accurately be called pamphlets, make their points more

through the criticism and praise of specific actors than through more

objective means. The former superficially analyzes and then praises and

criticizes the acting methods of David Garrick. The latter also super­

ficially analyzes the methods of David Garrick and others and then

condemns most of them (especially Garrick's).

Much of the damnation and/or praise of performances and performers

in the 18th century was based upon preconceived ideas concerning any

specific part in a play—how it should be played and who should play it.

As is the case today, theatrical criticism did not make too concerted an

effort to be "objective" or to try to understand the point of view of

the performer. During the mid 18th century, much of the criticism

centered around the concern that the passions be represented correctly.

Superficial representations and excessive representations were

condemned. Perhaps most violently objected to was the use of a parti­

cular passion where it did not belong, and, conversely, the absence of a

passion where it should be present.

Both pamphlets contain some observations worth noting. An Essay

on Acting begins with a definition.

Acting is an Entertainment of the Stage, which by calling in the Aid and Assistance of Articulation, Corporeal Motion, and Occular Expression, imitates, assumes, or puts on the various mental and bodily Emotions arising from the various Humours, Virtues and Vices, incident to human Nature.

There are Two different Kinds of Exhibitions, viz. TRAGEDY and COMEDY; the first fixes her Empire on the Passions, and the more exalted Contradictions and Dilations of the heart; the last, tho' not inferior (guotidem Science) holds her Rule over the less enobled Qualities and Districts of human Nature, which are call'd the Humours.^^

From the above quote, it is apparent that acting the passions was

a primary aspect of all theatrical acting. (The author suggests a

difference between comedic and tragic portrayals, though his distinction

is not clear.) This same premise forms the basis for Foote's commen­

tary: to act onstage is to act the passions of the play. To this end,

Foote discourses long on the passions of Shakespeare, particularly King

Lear and Othello, alternately criticizing and praising Garrick's

performance.

'* David Garrick, An Essay on Acting, Microfilm, The Eighteenth Century, reel #2469 (London, 1744, Microfilm, Woodbridge, CT: Research Publications, Inc., n.d.), p. 5.

59

Mr. G's whole Behavior during the first Act...is natural and masterly, the choleric Man happily marked in the Scenes with Cordelia. Kent, and at the Discovery of his eldest Daughter's Ingratitude; and indeed, wherever quick Rage is to be express'd, no Actor does the Poet so much Justice, nor is he less successful in tincturing all the Passions, with a certain Feebleness suitable to the Age of the King, the Design of the Author, and the raising of the minds of the Audience a stronger Feeling, and Compassion for Lear'8 Sufferings. And tho' in the general Conduct of the mad scenes, Mr. G. is, in my Opinion, faulty; yet in many . particular Instances, his Judgment and Execution demands the highest Applause.^^

In the same vein, the author of An Essay on Acting discusses the

passions in Macbeth.

The first Words of the Part, - So foul and fair a Day I have not seen, in my Opinion are spoke wrong; Mackbeth before his Entrance has been in a great Storm of Rain, Thunder, &c. Now as the Audience have been apriz'd of this, by the three Witches, he should very emphatically describe the quick Transformation from being wet to the Skin, to being almost instantaneously dry'd again; Tho' I can't convey in Writing the Manner how it should be spoke, yet every Reader may comprehend how it ought to be spoke, and know that in the Manner it is now Spoke, the Sentiment is languid, unintelligible, and undescriptive.

In 1753, three years after the author's death, Aaron Hill's Essay

on the Art of Acting was first .published. Written about four years

before hia death. Hill's Essay contains one of the most concise 18th

century English discussions on acting in general and on acting the

passions specifically.

To act a passion, well, the actor never must attempt its imitation, 'till his fancy conceived so strong an image, or idea, of it, as to move the same impressive springs within hia mind, which fprm that passion, when 'tis undesigned and natural.^

With this statement as the core of his acting theory. Hill, a

theater manager, a critic, a playwright, and a poet, presents his

opinions in a step-wise, lecture-type format. Expanding on his initial

premise. Hill outlines a basic two-step process for the actor.

^^Samuel Foote, A Treatise on the Passions so far as thev regard the stage (London, 1747, reprint. New York: AMS Press, 1976), pp. 22-23,

^^Garrick, p. 16.

^^Aaron Hill, An Essay on the Art of Acting, in The Works of the Late Aaron Hill, Esq., Microfisch, Library of English Literature (London, 1753, Microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), p. 355.

60

First, the actor is to "conceive a strong idea of the passion."

This phrase might seem somewhat strange to the modern reader, for today,

emotions are "felt" and not "conceived." To describe something that

comes to the mind and body through feeling as a thought seema curiously

poetic. Yet, Hill's choice of words is very precise and not at all

poetic. As an aspect of reason, conception and reflection belonged to

the highest aspect of the soul. It was a perfectly natural assumption

that a feeling could be known through thought.

Second, the actor is to allow his body to feel and respond to the

passion naturally, without tenaion or reaiatance of any kind. When the

actor'a body feels the passion in this way, gesture and voice will auto­

matically reflect the passion correctly.

Hill states that, for the actor to believe that he is the actual

character in all respects, is one acceptable procedure and will lead to

the accurate portrayal of the passions. If, however. Hill asserts, the

actor will "possess" an "idea" or "conception" of a particular passion,

he will automatically feel it in hia body. If, while still possessing

the idea of a particular passion, the actor goes to a mirror, he will

see how the passion has been manifested in his body and has changed his

body from its previous state. If then, while still in front of the

mirror, the actor speaks and gestures, he will hear and see the results

of the passion in his voice and in his movements. Through practice, the

response of the body can be refined and can eventually be called on at

will. For Hill, this procedure is the simplest and the easiest method

for acting the passions.

Hill condenses all the passions into 10 that are to be used

onstage: joy, grief, fear, anger, pity, scorn, hatred, jealousy,

wonder, and love. The author then defines and explains each. Verse

excerpts from verse plays (usually tragedies) are given as examples of

how the particular passion under discussion is represented in the words

of the play and are given as material to be used by the actor for study

and rehearsal of his performance of that passion.

The definition of each passion is expressed in a poetic formula,

one definition for each passion: "Joy is Pride, possesaed of Triumph;"

"Grief ia Diaappointment, void of Hope;" "Fear ia Grief, discerning and

avoiding Danger," etc. Each of these definitions ia then refined with a

general discussion of the passion and the body. Joy, for example, "is a

warm and conscioua expanaion of the heart, indulging in a aenae of

61

present pleasure and comparing it with past affection: It cannot,

therefore, be expressed without vivacity, in look, air, and accent."^^

Despite Hill's discussion of an acting technique that implies that

the truth of the paaaiona ia to be found in the individual experience of

each actor, hia analysis of the play according to its component passions

and his opinions concerning the correct portrayal of each paasion often

seem arbitrary. Directions to the actor, because they are so specific,

leave no latitude for differing views and interpretations. The impli­

cation is that only one interpretation of a passage is correct and

acceptable, and only one interpretation of the physicalization of a

paaaion is likewise correct and acceptable.

The following statement ia from Hill's discussion of hatred.

To express it rightly, it demands a look of malice, with a gesture of restrained impatience...Unless and actor has accustomed his reflection to examine distinctions in passion, he will be surprised, to be told, in this place, that there is no other difference but the turn of an eye, in the expression of hatred and pity. Yet, his experience will find it a palpable truth. - For, first, pity, and hatred, require both of them, the same intense brace upon the joints, and the sinews; and then, the characterizing distinction between them is this: (I mean, but what regards their expression that is, the outward makes they impress on the body) - Pity, by a look of inclination, implies affection, and desire to relieve; whereas Hatred, by averting the visage, and accompanying that look of abhorance, with gestures of malice and disapprobation, proclaims animosity, and purpose of mischief. - The nerves must be brac'd in both passions alike - because Pity is earnest - and Hatred is earnest; and therefore, the musclea, to express either paaaion, (however opposite they seem to each other) must be springy, and bent into promptitude.^'

From this excerpt, it is clear that the author believes that the

individual's experience of the passions proves the commonality of the

experience. It is also clear that there ia a distinction made between

the internal bodily feeling of the passions and their external mani­

festation. Although Hill advocates knowing a passion through the

process of allowing the conception of the passion to bring forth the

passion and manipulate the body, he also makes a separation between the

nature of the passion and its physicalization, most obvious in this part

of the excerpt: "and then, the characterizing distinction between them

ia thia: (I mean, but what regards their expression - that is, the

outward makes they impress on the body)." Pity and hatred are both

^*ibid., pp. 357-358.

^'ibid., pp. 378-379.

62

different passions; yet their physical representation onstage is virtually the same.

The simplification and solidification of the representation of the

physical manifestations of the passions would seem to be a development

of the 18th century. Although certain passions were considered similar

to each other and were categorized according to theae similarities, the

17th century theorists viewed each passion as a separate and recogniz­

able movement of the soul with physical manifestationa typical of each

specific passion. The tendency to standardize and simplify the physical

manifeatations onstage seems to be an 18th century practice.

Perhaps the clearest and most articulate 18th century discussions

of the passions and theater are found in Thomas Wilkes's A General View

of the Stage of 1759. It is a relatively long treatise that covers many

aspects of the theater. The author's general high regard for the power

of the passions onstage is very evident in this following excerpt.

The ingenious David Hume of Edinburgh has published an essay, which he calls A Dissertation upon the subject of which we now treat; but, instead of pursuing the point, and communicating to us the pleasure and instruction which we might reasonable hope for, he presents us with an enquiry very apt here, viz. "into the cause of that unaccountable pleasure which the spectators of a well-wrote Tragedy receive from sorrow, terror, anxiety, and other passions which are in themselves disagreeable and uneasy." In this dissertation he follows the opinion of Fontenelle, who, in his Reflections sur la poetigue. observes, that in regard to Tragedy, whatever dominion the sense may usurp over reason, there still lurks at the bottom a certain idea of falsehood in the whole of what we see. This idea, tho' weak and disguised, suffices to diminish the pain we suffer from the misfortunes of those whom we love; to bring that affliction to such a pitch as reduces it to a pleasure. We weep for the misfortunes of a great man, to whom we are, no matter from what principle, attached in the same instant we comfort ourselves with reflecting, that it is nothing but a fiction; and it is precisely that mixture of sentiments which compoaea an agreeable sorrow, and suppliea the tears that delight us.^°

Catharsis had never been satisfactorily explained in the 17th

century. Discussions of it usually paraphrased Aristotle's Poetics in

one way or another; but the actual mechanics of its process was obscure.

This passage suggests some of the beginning points of the breakdown in

the hierarchy of reason over emotion. Wilkes suggests that at the

moment of catharsis, reason and emotion act in tandem with one another.

^°Thomas Wilkes, A General View of the Stage. Microfisch, Library of English Literature (London, 1759, microfisch, Chicago: Encyclopaedia Britannica, n.d.), pp. 34-35.

63

Comedy, also, receivea a new aasessment.

Comedy is an image of common life: its intention is to reform the public follies or to correct the public taste, by throwing the vitiated or absurd manners of individuals into light or ridicule and entertainment

Comedy and Tragedy, each of them, properly considered, lead to the same useful end, that of instruction, by different vehicles: one addresses the affections, rouses the passions, and speaks to the heart with solemn and serious lesaona; its aspect is severe, its reproof tries ua to the quick, and often "most horribly (to uae a phraae of Shakeapeare'a) ahakea our disposition:" the other approaches with an easy familiarity, sits down with us, and, putting on our very character, shews our follies or mistakes with such humour and ridicule, that we often acknowledge the reprimand, and are corrected: like the jesters of old, it laughs us into regularity."'

Wilkes's view of comedy is rather different from the views of the

17th century. Comedy is no longer seen as an inferior form of drama.

Wilkea'a opinion placea it in equal conaideration with that of tragedy.

Furthermore, there is no longer the concern that comedy agitates the

passions.

Further into the treatise, as Wilkes writes of the necessity for

the actor to possess natural and appropriate qualities (particularly in

his voice), there ia aome diacussion of the difference in the passions

of comedy and those in tragedy as reflected in the actor's voice.

Tragedy and comedy aeem to require quite different tones for proper execution; sorrow, grief, pain, Sc. require a voice slow, solemn and affecting, like the melancholy plaintive notes of Adagio; Joy and Pleaaure, which are the proper appendages and marks of Comedy, will naturally form the voice into Spirituoso, or chearful vivacity of Music; Love in general requires a soft, alluring, and melodious voice; the mellow warblings of a German flute have a finer effect in moving the tender passions, than the rougher tones of a bassoon; and certainly an Actor, with an articulate melodious voice has all the roughness of a base-viol.

Hatred, rage, and contempt, may be compared to the sharps of Music, as joy, triumph, and exultation, are best expressed by the martial aounds of a trumpet...

The voice of Joy should be full, pleasant and flowing; of Love, gay, soft, or alluring; of Anger, or Hatred, vehement, sharp, and severe, intermixed with frequent respirations; insinuations, confessions, and acknowledge­ment, gentle and temperate; in persuasion, admiration, promise or consultation, grave and majestic; in fear, bashfulness, and modesty, abject, meek, and contracted, tremulous and hesitating; in pity and compasaion, it haa a soothing and melancholy plaintiveness; grief and trouble rec[uire a sad, dull, and languishing voice, grave and opprest, interrupted with heavy aigha and flowing teara; in

^'ibid., pp. 37, 46-47.

64

confidence, it is loud and atrong, supported with a decent boldness and daring constancy."•^

This excerpt suggests that the differences between comedy and

tragedy are differences in the predominance of passions associated with

certain qualities. Cheerfulness and vivacity, along with the metaphor

of the flute, suggest the qualities of comedy. Slowness, heaviness, and

the rough sounds of the bassoon and bass viol characterize the quality

of tragedy.

Of equal significance with the diacussion of the distinction

between the qualities of tragedy and comedy in Wilkes's treatise is the

discussion of the relationship between the paaaion being represented and

the actor's voice. Although in other treatises available for this

study, the correspondence between the paasions and the voice has been

hinted at and alluded to, this passage is the first to elaborate on the

relationship.

In the middle of a discussion on the general qualities of certain

passions, Wilkes again raises the issue of the distinction between the

passions in comedy and those in tragedy.

Again, let it be observed, that, though all these passions, under different appearance, being alike to tragic and comic characters; yet in Tragedy they are more strongly and distinctly marked than in Comedy. The dignity of tragic characters requires more weight... The scenes of Comedy, being only copies from that sort of life wherein we are all acquainted, require the same variety of paaaions, but in different or inferior degrees, their exertion is never so strong, nor do the occasions require it; but their transitions are endless; and 'tis thia variety which constitutes the excellency of the comic Player as well as the Poet...To give these Passions and their transitions their proper force, but distinction, and to take an agreeable and close likeness of those light-flying touches of Nature, will be the strongest and most striking picturea an Actor can exhibit in a comic way.°^

The implication from thia paasage is that the changes in the

passions in comedy come more quickly than they do in tragedy. Rather

than the gradual shifts from one passion to another that are a mark of

tragedy, comic passions shift with distinct beginninga and diatinct end

pointa, and the shifts come more often. One additional distinction

deals with the overall energy of the passions. In comedy, the passions

are never as intense as in tragedy.

^^ibid., pp. 111-113,

^^ibid., pp. 136-137,

65

Wilkes diacuases the paasions and their physicalizations in a

manner that is clearer than Hill's and is equally as specific.

The apprehension of approaching evil, or of being deprived of our happiness in any shape, creates fear; its symptoms are a pale countenance, a troubled eye, a depression of the spirits approaching to fainting: when it rises to terror or horror, a tremor and universal agony follow; the speech is broken and confused

Disappointment is expressed by desponding down-cast looks, gloomy eye, and the hand striking the breast-

Anger runa through the mind like a devouring flame; it choaks the voice, gives a savage wildness to the eye; the eye-brow in this disposition is let down, it is contracted, and pursed into frowns. This passion will sometimes excite a trembling in the whole frame; and when it swells into an extreme rage, all these motions will be yet more violent-"^

Conclusion

None of the treatises that have been available for thia study

discuss exactly how these movements functioned with the text of the play

and in the hands of the actors- Issues, such as the fluidity of

physical movement and emotion, the amount of body movement and gesture

unrelated to the paasions, the relative speed with which different

movements that represented the same passions changed, are all left

unanswered-

Dene Barnett diacuaaes the fluidity of rather quick gestures and

movements, the implication being that smooth changes in gesture with

relatively short amounts of time in between were the rule- Dene

Barnett, however, bases much of this assumption on Gilbert Austin's

Chironomia of 1806. Because the book is out of period, it may well

reflect the style of the last decade or ao of the 18th century rather

than the style of the century as a whole (a premise which Austin never

claims). In addition, Austin's emphasis is rhetoric; and, although the

theater borrowed heavily from the rhetorical tradition, it is not at all

clear to what extent this borrowing took place.

In all likelihood, the fluidity of the physicalization of the

passions onstage depended largely on the skill and experience of the

actor. As actors were trained through the apprenticeship system, the

techniques of the more unakilled or uninspired actors were passed on to

the next generation. Acting was a very individual process. There was

little attention given to enaemble performance- Out-of-work actora

traveled to the provincea where the audience demanda were quite

'*ibid-, pp. 125, 132.

66

different from thoae in London. All of theae factora would auggeat that

the performances of the 17th and 18th centuries were uneven in quality

and, to a certain extent, uneven in style.

(One aspect to this uneveneaa which is seldom considered ia that

of the regional accents and the costumes of the actors. There was no

standard pronunciation during these centuries; many actors would have

had strong regional accents. No attempt would have been made toward

standard speech until the mid 18th century at the very earliest.

Costume differences, as well, would have added a very discernible lack

of consistency to many productions. Some costumes were owned by

individual actors, some by the theater houses. New costumes were not

built for each new play. Rather, one costume was used for particular

stock characters regardleaa of the play. Thomaa Wilkes, in his book,

decries the lack of consistency in the costuming of historical plays.)

Today, the actor, in his training, distinguishes between an action

(any physicalization) played without emotion and one played with

emotion. It is unlikely that this distinction existed in the theater of

the 17th and 18th centuries- There is extremely little evidence that

stylized stage gestures or movements existed that were not represen­

tations of the passions. All of the commentaries on theater of the time

atate in varying ways that to act onstage is to act the paaaiona. Thia

equation permeates all 17th and 18th century discussions.

How far back in time the representation of the passions onstage

existed is unknown. It would be logical to assume that plays and their

performances incorporated the passions in some way since the formulation

of the concept in the late Middle Ages. The morality and passion plays

of this time dealt in black and white fashion with emotion and character

motivation, and it is reasonable to asaume that there waa some kind of

stylized representation of the emotional aspects of character-

The building of permanent theaters is always a major step toward

the standardization of performance- The first structures in England

built for the express purpose of the performance of plays were

constructed during Elizabeth Tudor's reign. By 1600, the Doctrine of

the Affections was a relatively well accepted concept and was being

explained and explored in treatises. Treatises that contained

discussions on the representation of the paasions were already in print

in music, art, and poetry. As playwriting was considered an aspect of

poetry, theater can be included in this list.

The repreaentation of the passions in theater occurred in both the

compositional and performance areas. As is clear in the treatises, the

67

origin of both aspects of the representation of the passions came in

part from what was believed to be ancient Greek and Roman traditions.

The Renaissance adaptations of these traditions formed the baaia for the

elaboration of the 17th and 18th centuries.

As the awareneaa and interests of society and individuals began to

change in the mid 18th century, this theatrical tradition began to

change as well. Initially, the alterations seem to have been consoli­

dations made primarily in performance. The physicalizations of the

passions grew more standardized, and performers were judged accordingly.

By the end of the 18th century, social and intellectual awareneaa

ahifted to emphasize the individual's importance. Emotion began to be

regarded as an individual experience, and the Doctrine of the Affections

quickly disintegrated.

The outward stylistic forms that the representations took were

perpetuated through the 19th and early 20th centuries. The original

meanings of these forms, however, were altered unrecognizably. The

verse plays of the English Romanticists dealt with the intensity of the

experience of personal emotion. Although the literary devices used

remained essentially the same, the idea of the common experience of

emotion as understood in the preceding century disappeared.

In the same way, the physical manifestation of emotion remained

relatively the same onstage. The dynamica of expreasion, the outward

forma of gesture and movement, and what is today called the "presenta­

tional" manner of acting continued in the same vein. It was the meaning

of the emotion itself that changed.

According to the Doctrine of the Affections and the treatises on

acting, the manifestations of the passions are different for different

people only because of the mechanical workings of the spirits and

humors; the passions themselves, however, remain the same. By the turn

of the 19th century, characters in tragedies were isolated precisely

because of their emotions. Tragedies often ended, not with catharsis

and resolution, but with emotional turmoil and isolation. The com­

monality of emotion, which tied together audience member to audience

member to actor to play, shifted to the individuality of emotion and

isolated audience members from each other and made the theater

experience more individually personal. Dryden and Wilkes's explanation

of catharsis no longer had relevance. In tragedies, the identification

with the emotions of the characters remained, but the universality of

emotion and the victory over it did not. Any victory over emotion

became peraonal and unable to be ahared, and identification with the

68

emotions of the characters did not expand to identification with the

human condition (except perhaps intellectually).

This change in the perception of emotion is one of the major

problems today's theater has in the performance of thoae plays from the

17th and 18th centuries. These plays were specifically constructed to

emphasize the universality of emotion and the supremacy of reason over

emotion. The objectives were to teach and to delight. These aspects of

the theater of three centuries ago are very alien to the modern mind.

The entire Doctrine, from its mechanical workings to its metaphysical

concepts, is alien. The concept of the supremacy of reason is alien.

The representation of emotion as the compositional foundation of a play

is not taught in any playwriting class today. Certainly not taught or

practiced today is the acting of a part based upon specific, consciously

designed physicalizations of emotion.

Perhaps the most important unrecognized convention upon which

Baroque plays were built is that of the mapping out of each emotion for

each character by the playwright and the following of that map by the

actor. Every change of intensity, as well as change of emotion, waa

written into a play and waa designed and expected to be followed by the

actor. From both the compositional and the performance standpoints

today, this practice is violently rejected.

If, however, the original designs and directions of the 17th and

18th century theater were followed again, perhaps Shakespeare and Dryden

and Congreve and Sheridan might find a relevance to the lives of modern

audience members. There is no reason to reject automatically any true

and accurate reconstruction of performance. Upon information and

belief, accurate reconstruction has never been attempted. Despite all

the demonstrationa of the differences between the theater esthetic of

300 years ago and now, it is possible that today's performance esthetic

is not quite as different from that of three centuries ago as it might

at first seem. Although today's practitionera and critics deny the

value of and even the existence of any stereotyped writing and

performance of emotion, does it exist today anyway, and if it does, does

it exist for a reason?

In any case, the plays of the 17th and 18th centuries were

composed around the representation of the passions, and the performances

of thoae plays were designed and executed to parallel the written

passions. It is the hope of this writer that this paper will spark

continued research on the paasions and affections in theater, for the

69

work here barely begins that work that is necessary to uncover the full

truth of the theater of this period.

70

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72

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74

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76

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77

APPENDIX

The following picture and accompanying poem are from Geffrey

Whitney's A Choice of Emblems (1586),^^ The book is a collection of

pictorial and poetic representations of passions, concepts, historical

and mythological people and events, and morals.

The title of this particular "emblem" is "Temeritas" (or

"Temerity"). Both the poem and the picture metaphorically depict the

passions out of control. The picture is of a chariot driver unable to

control the two horses that pull his vehicle. The horaea, man, and

chariot look to be moving too fast over uneven, rocky ground. The sky

ia dark and cloudy.

The first stanza of the poem describes the situation in the

picture. The second stanza explains that the emblem is a metaphor. The

man represents reason which is no longer able to control the horses,

which represent the passions. The situation is dangerous to the man and

his horses and vehicle.

This depiction is undoubtedly drawn from Socrates's parable in

Plato's dialogue Phaedrus.

^^Geffrey Whitney, A choice of Emblemes and other Devises (Leyden, 1586, reprint, New York: Da Capo Press, 1969), p. 6.

78

Temmtas,

•"m^mm

£: ' ^ y ^

'lite ^ I

PXAA!)

T H E waggoner, bchouldc, is hcdlongc throwcn, Aiidallm v.iinc doth take the raine in handc.

If he be dwrawenby horfcs fierce vnknowen, Whufe ibniacks ftov.te, no taming vndcrftandc,

They praunce, and ycrke,and out of order flingc. Till ail they brcakc, and vnto luuockcbringc.

That man, whoc hath affections fowlc vntanidc. And forwardc runncs ncglcding reafons race, Dcfcrucs by right, of alinientobceblanide, Aiid hcadionge falles at lengthc to his deface.

Then bridle will, and rcafon make thy guide. So niaille tliow ilandc, when others dounc doc Hide.

79

The next four illustrations are from Chirologia...Chironomia by

John Bulwer (1644).^ The first three of these are charts containing

some hand positions and gestures used to support the meaning of a

speaker. These do not specifically belong to rhetoric or to the stage

but are used commonly in general situations. The fourth chart is of

hand positions that are specifically rhetorical.

The English translation of the Latin titlea of each hand position

are in order as follows: for the first chart: I entreat, I pray, I

weep, I admire, I applaud, I am indignant, I explode (in anger), I

despair, I indulge in ease, I show mental anguish, I display innocence,

I applaud the taking of money, I resign my liberty, I protect, I

triumph, I demand silence, I swear, with aaaeveration I call God to

witness, I permit, I reject, I invite, I dismiss, I threaten, and I beg.

The translation of the second chart is in order as follows: I

reward, I bring aid, I am angry, I show I do not have, I chastise, I

fight, I confide in, I impede, I recommend, I lead about in an official

capacity, I betray impatience, I compel by repeated requests, I am

ashcimed, I adore, I affirm (my) conscience, I display contrition, I fear

with indignation, I pledge my faith, I reconcile, I note suspicion and

hate, I honor, I greet one with reservation, I show thievery, I bless.

The third chart contains gestures of the fingers. The translation

is in order aa followa: I work in discovery, I weep, I approve, I

extol, I show both sides (of an issue), I point, I inflect terror, I

show silence, I reprove, I summon, I disapprove, I show hesitancy, I

betray weakness, I provoke (an argument), I condemn, I impose irony, I

provoke in a contemptuous fashion, I betray avarice, I resent a slight

offense, I betray a mild anger, I make the sign of folly, I accuse of

improbability, I give sparingly, I count.

These translations are found in the 1974 reprint edition of

Bulwer's work and are by the editor, James W. Cleary. No translation is

given for the Latin of the last chart. The gestures depicted there are

specifically from the rhetorical tradition.

^John Bulwer, Chirologia...Chironomia. ed- James W. Cleary (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Press, 1974), pp. 115, 117, 143, 193.

80

A Corollary of ihc Speaking Motions

• A JtLppUeo . fi Or4. C Flora . D yidmiror.

81

A Corollary of the Speaking Motions

V>u'ficitheA 0Jul \ noto. !!

82

A Corollary of ilic Discomsing Ccsiure

T h e Canons of Rhetoric ians

\K^m^fr^crt-

kJt J - . 1 . 1 ' T ^ r ^ •- • r i ^ - - ^ ™

• - ^ ^ ^ 4

' & ^ ^ ; ^ - ; ^

^Ixccrattcnc^rrAt. ^yfMLiJt^^ ^^D^LU . ^i^Mcn, Jkmitk.

^ ^ 4 - ^ \A

•^^r^n t\

m 84

The following three illustrations are from Gilbert Austin's 1806

Chironomia. The first two illustrations demonstrate gestures of the

arms. The third demonstrate gestures of the hands and fingers.

Theae illustrations and the text that accompanies them clearly

indicate the shift in the meaning and in the function of the gesture.

The first page of gestures are of abstract movements. Gilbert

classifies each series of five figures according to the arm positions in

relation to the rest of the body. Each individual gesture, as well as

the movement from one to another, has no intrinsic meaning (not to

mention any relation to emotion), The gestures take their meaning from

the words that they underscore.

The second page of arm movements contains some gestures that have

very general meanings and some that are completely abstract. For

example, the gesture of figure number 93 is called "the sweep." It

"describes a curved movement descending from the opposite ahoulder, and

rising with velocity to the utmost extent of the arm, or the reverse

changing the position of the hand from supine to vertical in the first

case, and from vertical to supine in the latter. The sweep is aometimea

doubled by returning the arm back again through the same arch."°°

Nowhere in the description of this gesture is there any indication

of its meaning or its function. Its abstractness is further punctuated

by a footnote of the author's stating that the gesture was used by

Kemble (presumably John Philip Kemble) when saying the lines from

Hamlet: "The play's the thing/ Will catch the conscience of the king."

The next gesture, figure number 94, is called "striking" and the

one following that is called "recoiling." Although there is no meaning

given when the movement of each gesture is described, the naming of them

with words that imply some psychological connotations may be evidence

that these specific gestures are not toally abstract.

The gestures of the hand, in the third illustration, are described

with the same ambiguity as to meaning as those of the arm.

^^Gilbert Austin, Chironomia, ed. Mary Margaret Robb and Lester Thonssen (Carbondale, IL: Southern Illinois University Preaa, 1966), platea 3, 9, 5.

^^ibid., p. 343.

85

III.- .^j^i-tliiiuiti,- /.\.,fi.;,.r .u'rA, Imis /'//!/•.-. J.

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The following four illustrations are reproductions of pen-and-ink

costume designs by Inigo Jones made for four characters of one of the

last of the Ben Jonson/Inigo Jones mascjues: Chlorida (1631). The

characters are personifications of four passions: jealousy, disdain,

fear, and dissimulation.

From careful study of the body gestures of these four characters,

it is possible to infer some general conclusions about the representa­

tion of these passions onstage.

^'Stephen Orgel and Roy Strong, Tniqo .TonPs: ^^-^^^^^^^J^'^^'^^ Stuart court. Vol. 2. (Berkeley; University of California Press, 1973), pp. 437-438.

89

[73 Jealousy

90

174 I^isdain

91

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92

ij6 Dissiinulatioii

93

The following two illustrations are slightly different paintings

by William Hogarth of the same scene from John Gay's ballad opera. The

Beggar's Opera.'^ These pages have been taken directly from Ronald

Paulson's The Art of Hogarth. The author's captions have been left

because they provide background information and also a short but very

important discussion of the poses of the characters and their meanings.

70Ronald Paulson, TV Q Art of Hogarth (London; Phaidon Press, Ltd., 1975), plates 10, 11.

94

10. The Beggar's Opera. 1728. Oil on canvas, 18 X 21 in. Farmington, Connecticut, 'I'ho Lewis Walpole Library

John Gay's Ihwxtir's OpLTti was first produced in January 1728. llognrth mai.le a pencil sketch on the spot (Royal Library) and in quick succession produced at least live versions, culminating in IMatc 11 (repeated a bit later in the version which is now in the 'fate Gallery). The play offered Hogarth a paradigm that intluenccd his 'modern moral subjects' (as he called them) of the 1730s: a scene involving actors (Lavinia l-'enton, Thomas Walker) playing roles ol'characters (Polly Peachum, Captain Macheath) who themselves are playing socially determined roles (romance heroine, gentleman of the road); and these are being applauded by spectators, here shown on the stage itself, who arc the models for the sort of behaviour they are witnessing, and are themselves involved in

the same sort of subterfuges. In the linal version (I'late I f) I.avinia-l'olly's right arm is turned away from Macheath and her gaze is directed away from her stage lover to her real lover, the Duke of Bolton, the man at the far right who is returning her gaze {in which role?). The relationship between actors and spectators is

underlined by Hogarth's use of colour. The black suit and hat of Peachum are connected by colour, texture, and cut with that of a standing tigure among the audience on the stage (John Rich, the theatre manager, or Gay according to early identifications); the brown suit of Lockit connects him with another man in the audience (Sir Robert 1-agg), and the salmon suit of Macheath with another (Major Paimccford). The moral correspondence between

9F

11. The ncxgor's Opera. 1729. Oil on canvas, 23} X 28J in. Collection of Mr and Mrs Paul Mellon

the two groups is further emphasized by the inscription over the stage, 'Velute in speculum' (even as in a mirror). The scene portrayed. III.11, is in Newgate Prison and shows Macheath in the pose of the (Choice of Hercules ('Which way shall 1 turn me?' he sings, '—How can I decide?') between his two 'wives', I.ucy Lockit and Polly Peachum, who in turn are beseeching their fathers (respectively warden and fence-thief-taker) to save Macheath from the gallows. Mr Peachum and Polly are shown in what would have been reci>gnized by connoisseurs as a Noli me laiigere pose, struck by Peachum, who sees himself in relation to Polly (who, disobedient, has married Macheath) as a Christ in relation to Mary Magdalen, saying, 'Don't touch me, I'm all spirit.'

9 6

The following illustrations are two portraits of David Garrick in

two of his most famous Shakespearean roles: Richard III and Hamlet.

Both of these paintings are of great importance because, as with the

Hogarth paintings of the scene from The Beggar'a Opera, they document

character poature from a specific place in a specific play.

The first portrait is Garrick aa Richard III, Act I, scene 4, at

the moment the character haa awakened from his magical nightmare. The

portrait is again by William Hogarth. "The extended right hand with

five fingers spread as a fending off gesture in the Hogarth painting

comes directly from the acting manuals of the rhetorical tradition,

familiar to actors and audiences alike in the 1730s and 1740s."^^

The second portrait of Garrick ia by Benjamin Wilaon from Hamlet.

Act I, scene 4, where Hamlet first sees his father's ghost. Thomaa

Wilkes, in his 1759 book, A General View of the Stage, wrote the

following about Garrick and this moment: "His manner of receiving his

father's ghost on its first entrance has a fine mixture of astonish-

ment, deference, and resolution."'"

•''George Winchester Stone, Jr., and George H. Kahrl, David Garrick; A Critical Biography (Carbondale, IL; Southern Illinois University Press, 1979), p. 28.

''-Wilkea, p. 250.

97

Walker Callcnj, Liveqyool Garrick a.s Richard ni.

Painting hy William Hogarth, 1745.

98

Fol<l,cr Sluikcspeare JJhrarij Garrick as Ilainlet.

Engraving hy J. McArdcll, 17, 4, I'oni a painting hy IkMijamin Wilson.

99

The following illuatrations are from Charles Le Brun's Methode

pour apprendre S dessiner les passion.

100

^ t/^uJrre.:> I'&nemlixm.

101

102

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104

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106

107

P% •" LOUl re

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